


Stars, Don't Hide Your Fires

by pagetbrewster



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F, Fanfic, Fanfiction, JJ - Freeform, Jemily - Freeform, criminalminds - Freeform, emilyprentiss, jenniferjareau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 23,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagetbrewster/pseuds/pagetbrewster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are we to do then, when everything to be illuminated is not evil?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Roads and Strange People

“This is so different.”

Jennifer Jareau breathes this from the passenger seat of a black Ford Focus. The sun is nearly blinding, fewer targets and no buildings with which to protect them from raw heat pounding on the roof of the dark car. 

“You can say that again”, Emily Prentiss replies lazily, swerving gently to avoid a pothole. “The roads are terrible. And it’s hot. It’s only September and it feels like June back home.”

“The forecast says it’s supposed to drop to fifty-eight degrees by Wednesday."

Emily looks at her, eyebrows raised. “It’s seventy-five today. Are you sure that’s right?”

JJ nods. “Apparently the weather does that all the time here.”

Emily leans back into the seat. “Just another inconsistent thing.”

JJ offers a reassuring smile, one she knows Emily won’t look over to see. She’s independent like that, and it’s the kind of strength JJ was always drawn to for comfort. It’s an anomaly and what’s further anomalistic is the lack of need for surety and lasting in another person. It’s then that she remembers that she’d promised not to profile anyone, but Emily is different because they’re not in a conference room now, avoiding sideways glances to the other. It’s different because they’re thrust into yet another unfamiliar environment and yet another unfamiliar situation, the instability of which doesn’t seem to faze Emily at all.

Which could only mean, of course, that Emily is used to change. The years that JJ had hoped she’d become adept in changing circumstances obviously had not worked as well as Emily’s had. Theories of her experiences run wildly through Emily’s head but there’s too many to be sure of one. She’d have to accept this woman as yet another atypical enigma of human behavior, and she’d have to just know what Emily did, if she ever decided to share and not why she did it. If anything, this job had taught her that some people can’t be solved.

“You’re quiet.”

This obvious statement stuns JJ for a second, but she laughs anyway. “Yeah, sorry I’m so dull. I stayed up late last night and we all got an early start this morning. I need coffee or something.”

“Me too. We’ll see if there’s any good places to get something to eat in this town.”

“Speaking of the town, how do you think you’re going to be able to find a rural-route address when there’s hundreds of them here?”

Emily grimaces. “Don’t remind me how awful it is to find it. No matter how many times we go to small towns I’ll never understand why people don’t use street addresses.”

“Hey, if all else fails we can occupy someone’s barn.”

Emily laughs, and it’s genuine. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

JJ smiles to herself, settling back. “We passed a ’28 miles left’ sign a ways back.”

“Yeah, and we passed a ‘point of no return’ sign about five-hundred miles ago.”

+++

About a half an hour later, Emily rolls into a lengthy gravel driveway to a house obscured by woods. There’s only one other vehicle parked, a rusted Chevrolet pickup truck with the left window down and a spare tire in the back. 

Almost as soon as they park, an older woman, maybe fifty-five or sixty comes from the front door with a wide smile. They get out and before they meet, the woman speaks. “Hi! We were wondering if you’d show up. I’m Jean; this is where you girls’ll be staying.”

After they shake hands and introduce themselves, Emily inquires. “Will you be staying with us?”

Jean shakes her head quickly. “Oh no, I just take care of the place. And even if I could get the time off work there’s no point. I live about twenty minutes away in Little York.”

JJ nods. “We appreciate you letting us stay here. Emily has a family reunion and the closest hotel was thirty miles away.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I have to take off here soon, but I made a cinnamon cake and it’s sitting on the counter. There’s also sweet tea in the fridge. If you need groceries, the store’s on Main Street in town on the corner. You can’t miss it. Oh, and if you need anything, I left my number by the phone.”

Emily smiles gratefully. “We’ll make sure to call if we need you. Thanks again.”

“It’s no problem, really. I’d stay, but I’ve got to make sure to be home when my husband gets home. He gets cranky when I’m late to start dinner. He can’t cook for shit.”

The women laugh at the revelation and watch as Jean gets in the truck, starts it, and waves before backing out.

“Better get settled in”, Emily says, rolling a suitcase over the gravel and to the porch. 

The house is already unlocked; a silver key on the counter next to the cake Jean promised was there. A table lies before the kitchen in a makeshift dining room. A living room is beyond that with two leather couches sitting adjacent in front of a TV. JJ goes down the hallway, seeing the bathroom that lies on the right side. One door down, she enters a bedroom. 

She hears Emily in the hallway, feet rubbing against the carpet. A door opens behind her and in Emily’s typical revealing voice, she announces: “She said there were two bedrooms but I guess she failed to mention she used one of them for furniture storage. It’s so full I could hardly get the door open.”

JJ drops her suitcase and her duffel on top of it. “Just sleep in here. I don’t bite.”

Emily pulls her luggage into the room, laying it on the other side of the bed. “It’s not the biting I’m concerned about so much as the snoring.”

JJ shoots Emily a look. “I do not snore”, she says defensively.

“No, of course not. That time you fell asleep in the car you were just breathing violently.”

JJ shakes her head in defeat. “Hotch says we’ve got about an hour to get settled in before he needs us at the station in town.”

“In that case”, Emily says, walking out of the room and stopping at the doorway. “Cake?”


	2. Differential

Emily listens intently as Hotch gives the differential, with Gideon tailing close behind. She hears him tell the stories of Bianca Ramirez, Kaylie Newman and John Brewster, how they’d been found badly beaten and strangled and posed in their homes. Bianca and Kaylie had been romantically involved, Hotch says, and John was a black man. It’s quite obvious they were hate crimes. Instead of limiting the scope of his outward objections to simply one or the other he went after both; probably because the community is so little that unless he were broadened, he wouldn’t be able to kill enough to satisfy the idea in his head of how the world ought to be.  
Which means he’ll kill again, Gideon chimes in, as if it even needed to be said. Of course he’d kill again and they know it; just another murder they won’t be able to prevent but hopefully by invasively living in the community, becoming a part of the small-town complex, they’ll go to sleep this time two weeks or so from now and stay asleep, knowing he’s been taken care of and another thousand people can rest their eyes too.  
“Agent Prentiss and JJ, I want you to go back to the house and work the details of your cover. You probably won’t have a public appearance until tomorrow, when we can finalize. Morgan and Reid, I’d like you to start the interview process within the station, and casually branch out. Everyone knows everyone here; so don’t let them think you’re intruding. Gideon and I will follow behind.”  
The next thirty seconds or so is a collective scraping of chairs, gathering of files, and whispered greetings and goodbyes.   
Emily and JJ leave out the back, so as not to be seen with their colleagues and blow their cover. They get in, Emily starts the car and it’s not long before they’re back on the highway, the one that’ll take them to their temporary home.  
She hears JJ’s trademark sigh, the one she gives when things get tough and she isn’t sure of herself until everything’s smoothed out.  
“They never win”, Emily says definitively, not bothering to explain.  
With her eyes glued to the road, she has time to think about JJ’s chilling response.  
“I know. There’s always Hell.”


	3. First Day: First Night

“So we keep our names?”

“We keep our names”, Emily answers.

“But we change the last names.”

In this way JJ is strange, asking unnecessary questions that she knows the answer to. Sometimes people do that when they don’t want to be cast in the endlessness of possibility. She isn’t much different.

“Yes. My last name is Davis and yours is Matthews.”

“Matthews is a boring last name.”

“Don’t worry”, Emily says, lying back on the couch. “I was thinking of proposing.”

“I’m glad I get to go undercover with the incompetent, teasing yet abrasively honest Emily ‘Davis’ as my lesbian girlfriend. I really couldn’t think of anyone better”, she says sarcastically.

And in this way, she is secure. So was it of JJ to tease when the time was right, and so was it she’d have the confidence to do so. It’s her inconsistency, however, that Emily hadn’t noticed until now.

“I’d say the same, except I can’t help feeling that it’s too bad they didn’t approve Garcia to go with me when I first asked.”

JJ stands. “That hurt me deep.”

Seeing her walk away, JJ hears Emily speak in alarm. “Did I really offend you?”

“No”, JJ calls over her shoulder. “I just want coffee. You need any?”

“Yeah, if you could. Add a couple spoonfuls of sugar.”

JJ does so, adding creamer and sugar in her own. Carrying the two cups she returns to the living room, grateful Emily took the hot mug when she did. “Careful, it’s really hot.”

Emily sips it anyway.

“So, since we don’t have public appearances until tomorrow, do you want to order a movie or something?”

JJ nods. “What kind of stuff do you like?”

“I’d hate to sound like every other belligerent and angry teenager when I say I don’t like romantic comedies, but I know I will anyway.”

“Yes!” JJ almost shouts. “What’s funny about love? Love makes you want to tear your hair out.”

Emily laughs. “So you’ve been in love?”

“I think so; whatever I thought was love. I had someone, a guy whose interactions and dumb dates and things we shared would be like we could have a romantic comedy, like the ones I hate now. And when he left, I realized love wasn’t like that at all. That was attraction, because when you love someone like I loved him, the thought of leaving is almost unbearable.” JJ pauses and seeing Emily’s sincere reaction, she asks.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Emily sits back into the cushions, sipping her coffee. “No. And it’s both the most liberating thing I can think of, for some reason, to not have the thing everyone wants. I’m sure I’ll wake up someday not able to fill the void, but today isn’t that day, and yesterday wasn’t that day, so I trust tomorrow won’t be that day either.”

“How come everything you say makes so much sense?”

Emily had been staring ahead to the blinds, coffee in her lap. She looks over at JJ now, her expression solemn but knowing, and the corners of her brown eyes crinkled under pristine eyeliner. It’s a look JJ doesn’t recognize; as many conversations she’d had with people nobody had ever looked at her this way; it’s not the haunted look that comes hand in hand with the job. 

“Because when you want to hear what I say, it’s then that you trust me to make sense to you.”

This is both the most ‘Emily’-type response she can think of and something that makes the woman sitting in front of her a stranger. She knows what it’s like to be a slave to the city and what it’s like the save the weekends for smiling. That’s how her and Emily have always related. Being the only two women in the workplace, with the exception of Garcia; who was never really around; they found themselves in situations where they’d actually have to make conversation and there was something there, laying roadblocks to personal discussions. So instead, they’d joke and complain and pretend they knew the other one’s thoughts on anything, because the thought of asking was a road best left not traveled.

But now she sees something deeper and it’s pleasant, because the burden of manipulating the situation to where she could say something with meaning is no longer a problem, because she’d felt guilty leaving a sophisticated and smart woman like Emily challenged in shallow waters.  
Interrupting JJ’s thoughts, Emily blinks and picks up the remote, pointing it at the TV and illuminating the screen.

“How about a thriller?”

+++

“Emily, you must stop with the coffee.”

“Never.”

“It’s eleven o’clock.”

Emily makes a point of slurping again. “We don’t have to get up early.”

Her obstinate nature is amusing.

“Still. Caffeine in your body at a late hour, it’s a miracle you sleep at all.”

Emily tips her head back, downing the rest of it. “Fine. I’m getting tired anyway.”

JJ plays with the hem of the cotton shorts she’d put on about an hour ago. They’re old and it’s now that she regrets not having put more thought into the things she’d tossed into her bag. Though the lateness of the hour isn’t grand, she stifles a yawn but isn’t discreet enough for Emily not to inquire.

“Why haven’t you gone to bed?”

JJ shrugs. “Because.”

Emily’s jaw drops. “No way.”

“No way, what?” JJ asks, raising her eyebrows and stepping back as Emily comes toward her. 

“You’re scared of that movie.”

“What? No. No.” JJ says, shaking her head.

It’s true though; she’s frightened. She’d gone up to use the bathroom about ten minutes ago and upon seeing her reflection in the mirror, she thought she saw someone in the bathroom with her. Curse these things for having such an impact. 

“You…are scared.”

“No I’m not”, JJ says defensively.

Emily stops a short distance from her. She holds still for a minute, like she’s about to do something, and JJ stops breathing, unable to predict Emily’s actions when she’s got an intent look on her face. She’s planning something, she’s planning-

“BA!” Emily exclaims, poking JJ in the ribs.

JJ screams and jumps backwards. “That’s not fair!” 

Emily is doubled over laughing, so JJ runs forward and does the same to her. Emily’s reaction is not what she expected, Emily falling to the floor on her knees, clutching her sides and laughing. “Way to shoot me when I’m down.”

“Are you ticklish?”

What is she doing?

“Slightly.”

JJ crawls to her, tickling her way up Emily’s stomach. “Slightly?”

God, this isn’t like her at all.

“St-stop!” Emily manages between laughs. She leans backwards as if to evade JJ’s cruelty, and ends up lying with her back to the floor. JJ takes advantage of her position, scooting in between her legs to lean over and tickle her again. Emily’s face is beet-red and she’s nearly crying with the way her giggles escape her lungs. JJ feels Emily’s foot in her side but only stops for a minute, to let Emily catch her breath.

No, their friendship was nothing like this; is nothing like this. Objectively, JJ is still clueless.

She’s trapped when Emily wraps her thighs around JJ’s waist, allowing their bodies to press together and her to roll over, so that she’s straddling JJ. “You’ll regret messing with me”, she declares, dancing her fingers over JJ’s abdomen.

JJ contorts in a vain effort to escape from Emily. “Stop it!”

“No.”

Emily is relentless, and JJ is short of breath. She leans over to push Emily off, but Emily grabs her wrists, pinning them above her head. Emily had leaned forward to do so, an action that caused their faces to be separated by a couple mere inches.

Emily’s breath smells of coffee, and her shirt of vanilla. Mascara is smeared under her eyes and she’s no longer smiling, only keeping an unsure gaze as she quietly catches her breath. JJ’s eyelids get heavy and she’s shocked at the way her lower back had arched into Emily. Her heart is beating loudly from the exercise and when her fingers curl forward, they cover Emily’s, resting on her palms.

Being inches away from her colleague and always bound by regulations and protocol, JJ doesn’t know what’s real. Everything Emily’s done has been contradictory of what she was told, of what both of them were told. 

Emily looks down JJ’s body, and then snap back up, as if that was something she hadn’t meant to do. She bites her lip and releases hold of JJ’s wrists. Sitting up, she climbs off JJ, brushing off her jeans and holding a hand out. “I messed up your hair.”

Standing, JJ’s hand automatically goes to her head. “How bad?”

Emily smiles. “Not bad.”

JJ fixes her shirt and tucks her hair back behind her ear. “I suppose we better get to bed then.”

Emily nods. “Yeah. It’s late.”

JJ follows her lead to the back bedroom. She climbs into the blankets on the right side. “Do you sleep on the left or the right?”

“The left”, Emily says, unbuttoning her simple white shirt. “So you’re in luck.”

JJ settles back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

Emily had discarded her shirt, revealing a plain black bra with a tiny bit of lace on the underside. She’s facing away from JJ as she picks up an FBI issue t-shirt from the top of her suitcase and slips it over her head. Her jeans are next, pushed smoothly down her pale legs and discarded into the corner of the room. JJ tries to focus on something else, like the wall for instance but her eyes betray her and wander anyway, watching as Emily bends over to pick up her sweatpants. Her underwear match her bra, JJ realizes as she sees Emily put one leg after the other into the pants, and pulling them up under her shirt. Emily begins to turn, presumably to go to bed or do something normal, unlike JJ, and JJ instantly closes her eyes, pretending to be resting.

Looking at such things or people like Emily is excusable, JJ believes. It’s only human nature.

Of course, this is just another thing she chalks up to being human. She messes up; everyone messes up. She does something she’s not supposed to; people do worse. It was her conscious decision to allow her mind to wander; to admitting so opens a wave of things she’s not strong enough in this moment to handle.

Emily climbs in under the sheets, her knee touching JJ’s thigh as she leans backward to shut off the lamp. JJ sighs as the room is clothed in darkness and she hears Emily settle into the pillows.

“Goodnight”, Emily says quietly.

“Goodnight”, JJ whispers.

+++

At five fifty-seven in the morning, Emily lies awake.

About ten minutes ago, she’d woken to someone’s hair tickling her nose. That someone was of course, JJ. She’d been too scared of waking her to move, instead, brushing her hair out of her face and allowing JJ to cling to her side.

One of Emily’s legs lies straight, and JJ’s knee rests atop the other one. JJ’s head had been buried in the crook of Emily’s neck but she’d shifted, still sleeping soundly. Her fingers are curled over the white sheets between their bodies.

JJ had been right; the caffeine made it nearly impossible for Emily to sleep. She fell asleep at about one and JJ hadn’t snored the whole night, much to Emily’s delight. She doesn’t know why she’s awake now, or how she can stand to lie in a bed with her eyes open as tired as she is. Often times, when her head runs wild, she finds she can’t seem to fall asleep.

She’s thinking about the night before, holding JJ’s hands above her head, legs spread over JJ’s stomach. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her and she almost slaps herself now, for how stupid she was. She’d never thought of JJ intimately before but sitting here, calculating pros and cons and probabilities that JJ would returning anything she had to offer, she has no choice. 

The thought is preposterous, so Emily thinks. Sometimes she plays thoughts in her head like movies, to figure out which ones are plausible and which ones are best left in the night. She imagines having done something crazy, like kissed her, and is relieved when the only aftermath she can foresee involves dancing around it for the remainder of the trip, and pretending it didn’t happen for however long they worked together. The predictability of Emily’s actions sets her mind at ease, and the assurance that it would not only be impossible but unethical can help her let go of it.

JJ makes a sound from the back of her throat like she’s dreaming, and pushes her hand forward. It stops when her knuckles lightly tap Emily’s sternum and she’s back to breathing rhythmically again. 

Emily however, isn’t.

She doesn’t recoil from sleeping JJ’s subconscious contact, instead, she stares ahead. She’s never behaved like this before; never thought like this before. It’s unfamiliar and being the stubborn person she is, she won’t admit she’s afraid of it.

Don’t worry JJ, she thinks before she closes her eyes to rest. I’ll be back in a week or so.


	4. Undercover

“I’m making eggs”, JJ announces plainly upon seeing Emily’s sleepy figure stumble into the kitchen.

Emily rubs her eyes and yawns. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Yes, people typically do that at night.” 

She hears a chair move back and Emily sit in it, the wicker material of it crackling under her legs. JJ uses a spatula to scoop some eggs on a plate, setting it before Emily on the marble breakfast bar. “Do you want toast?”

“If you’re having some, I’ll have some. Thank you.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“What is there?”

“Well I ran to the grocery store and…”

“Wait”, Emily interrupts. “What time is it?”

“Ten-thirty. I’ve been up for awhile. Anyway, I got milk and juice and other stuff to eat. And the sweet tea Jean made is still in the fridge.”

She turns to scrape the remainder of the eggs onto a plate, and switches off the stove. Emily had gotten up to get something to drink. “Where are the glasses?” she asks.

“Top right cupboard”, JJ responds, fishing out two pieces of bread and putting them in the toaster.

“What do you want to drink?”

JJ turns around and grins. “I’ll take milk, thank you.”

Emily pours the drinks, and sits beside JJ at the counter. Taking a forkful of eggs into her mouth, she smiles. “These are really good, Jayje.”

“If you think those are that good, you need to get out more.”

Emily snorts. “You can say that again.”

JJ scoots up. “Hotch called and said he and Gideon are setting up our appearance. He thinks we’ll probably do the exciting task of, get this, shopping.”

“Shopping…in this town?”

“There’s lots of things we need. For instance, furniture.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “The last thing Jean needs is more furniture. But it’s okay. We’ll figure out something.”

JJ sighs, relaxing her back. 

“Is something burning?”

JJ’s mouth falls open, and she sprints to the toaster; and she pulls out two blackened slices.

“Bon appetit.”

+++

Emily settles back into the seat, still gripping the steering wheel. “So how are we gonna do this?”

“You mean, show up to a furniture store?”

“Don’t discount my doubts. We have to appear as if we’re actually dating.”

JJ shrugs. “Just pretend I’m a man.”

“You said that in such high-pitched voice; now I’m never going to believe you’re a man.”

“How would you go furniture shopping with a man?”

“Maybe hold hands, pretend to be interested in couches.”

“Sounds good to me”, JJ says, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Emily does the same but gets out, circling around the car and offering a hand out to JJ, helping her stand. “Miss Matthews.”

JJ bows her head, then looks up and smiles. “Let’s go pick out some couches.”

Emily instinctively slips her hand over JJ’s, intertwining their fingers. She walks them to the door and opens it for JJ.

“Thank you”, she says, ducking under Emily’s arm to go into the store.

JJ’s got her fingertips curled over the side of Emily’s fingers, a gesture that she wasn’t familiar with. Emily smiles to herself just as an old man rounds the counter, walking toward them. “Hi ladies. My name’s Tom; I own this place. How can I help you?”

JJ releases Emily’s hand to instead slip her arm through Emily’s, pulling her close. “We need a new couch for our living room. Ours is an old leather thing, and it doesn’t look nice with the white paint on the walls.”

“Well, I’d recommend a white one if they didn’t get so damn dirty. Are there any splashes of color in the decorations?”

“Yes.” Emily speaks up. “Red and black.”

She feels JJ’s eyes on her, staring as she probably craned her neck upwards. “Well”, Tom says, “we’ve got plenty of both. If you need anything, I’ll be just past this counter. Give me a holler.”

JJ nods. “Thank you sir.”

Tom dips his head forward. “No problem.”

Their arms linked, JJ leads them to the rows of couches at the front of the store, passing coffee tables and televisions. She must’ve spotted one because she dashes over, hopping into a black one with soft, new leather. “God, this is so comfortable.”

Emily picks up a tag, reading the $1,500 price. “Mmm, and so out of our price range.”

JJ settles back. “We’ve got to make an exception”, she says with her eyes closed.

Emily walks around, and upon spotting a back room, she calls back to JJ. “Unfortunately, there’s only so much money to go around when you’re just a journalist. Now get back here, there’s more stuff.”

Emily hears the groan of the leather as JJ sits up, and the scrape of her feet against the tough carpet and she walks up behind her. “Mattresses.”

Emily walks over to one of the beds, poking the mattress. “This is nice.” She sits down and swings her feet over the side, leaning back into the pillows. “Wow. This is really nice.” 

“Let me feel”, JJ says, taking the other side. She crawls into the bed, snuggling into the mattress. “This is heaven on earth.”

Emily chuckles, closing her eyes. “You wanna stay here?” she says jokingly.

She feels JJ nod. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Emily turns over, facing her. JJ’s already curled onto her side and as Emily adjusts, their knees touch.

“This case is going to be really hard, Emily”, she whispers softly.

“I know”, Emily whispers back. “But we’ll get him.”

A startlingly small distance separates their faces. JJ’s makeup is perfect, Emily notices. Not too much eyeliner, not too much mascara. Enough to accentuate her thin face, and her slightly tanned skin. 

“Why do you always do that?” Emily asks, looking downward.

“Do what?”

Emily motions. “Hide your hands.”

JJ’s hands are tucked under her side, hidden from view. “I never noticed.”

“You only do it when people are talking to you.”

“It must be a new habit. I don’t think I’ve ever done it before.”

Emily shrugs, coming to a sitting position. “You wanna take off?”

JJ slides off the bed. “Yeah, I think so. I want to take a nap.”

Emily scoffs but smiles, holding out her hand.

JJ takes it, slipping their fingers together again. Together, they walk to the exit, and JJ calls over her shoulder. “Thank you sir!”

Tom peeks from below the counter, waving them goodbye. “Thanks for stopping by!” 

Emily smiles as a silent farewell, pushing the door open and walking to the car. Opening the door, she guides JJ in. She circles around and gets in and as soon as she shuts the door, JJ makes an announcement.

“I’m making you dinner tonight.”


	5. Evenings Away From Home

JJ hums along to the music, stirring the sauce on the stove. Her hair is tied up, with blonde strands falling from the updo. She fights the urge to use the spoon as a microphone, even though the song is a soft acoustic with the occasional drum. 

Emily walks in, pulling out a chair at the breakfast bar. “Hotch just called and set up my journalism debut.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Just interview the townspeople. There’s no telling when he’s gonna strike next, and the team is planning our next outing. But Hotch said something interesting, that we just happen to be here on the bicentennial.”

“Do they make a big deal of it here?”

Emily nods. “Oh yeah. They’re hosting a party at a bar in town, karaoke and stuff. It’ll be perfect.”

“When is it?” 

“In a couple days. Party starts at eight.”

“I didn’t pin you as the party type.”

“No, I’m not”, Emily says as JJ turns to switch off the stove under the noodles. “But I’ve got you with me.”

JJ hides a smile as she fishes a strainer from the cupboard beside the oven. 

She prepares two plates and fills two glasses of wine. Handing one to Emily, she explains. “Jean left us a little something.”

Emily grins. “Jean is wise.”

They sit opposite each other at the dining room table, a covered light hanging above them. JJ’s kitchen CD still plays from the radio; an acoustic melody that fits the hot night. A clock ticks from behind Emily and it’s a few hours behind. Everything about this house seems untouched, like maybe it was someone’s started project and once the honeymoon period was over they realized it was just like every other house here, aged and not home.

JJ sits with her legs crossed in the dining room chair, something she’d always done. Her hand rests her heavy head and she twirls the noodles around the fork with her right.

“Tired?” Emily asks.

JJ nods. “I never did get that nap.”

“I was thinking of checking out early too. Strange, how it feels like a long day.”

“I’m about ready to put on some pajamas and fall asleep.”

“Here, do you want me to take up your plate?”

JJ smiles. “Yeah, thank you.”

Emily puts the plates in the sink, and JJ walks back to the bedroom. She hears the clank of dishes and hurries to slip off the loose blue top and the cropped jeans she’d been wearing.

She found the white tank top she wanted to wear but not her shorts, which she’d sworn she left in the top drawer. She kneels beside her duffel, shivering with the cool air of the bedroom fan against her almost naked body. Shoving clothes aside she finds nothing, and lifting the bag from the floor she finds the shorts crumpled underneath. As neat as she was in the office, she’d never show the same organization at home.

“Hey J-oh. Sorry.”

“No it’s okay”, JJ reassures, turning to smile at her. She slips her legs into the cotton shorts, pulling them up over her hips. Next the top, thrown on in a hurry.

Emily’s already wearing pajamas; a matching short and top thing. “That’s cute.”

Emily looks down at what she’s wearing. “Thank you!”

JJ climbs into bed alongside her, sliding under the covers. “I am so tired.”

“Me too”, Emily agrees, turning off the lamp. She settles down into the bed and sighs.

JJ waits for Emily to wish her good night but she doesn’t. She curls up on her side, facing Emily. When she breathes in, the scent is amazing; like a kind of incredible perfume she’ll never find. Emily’s a steady combination of wine and something dark and sweet, charismatic. Like the way the woods smell after it rains, the fresh and scent of something good.

She can’t describe it but her eyes get heavy and she’s falling asleep quickly. It normally takes her awhile but not tonight, not full and happy and satisfied.

Teetering on the edge of consciousness, she hears a soft voice cut through the dark.

“Good night JJ.”

She smiles. “Good night Emily.”


	6. Uneasy Citizens

It’s about mid-morning when Emily finally leaves, making the journey to the small town through sharp curves and trees hanging overhead, sunlight filtering through them and into the windshield; the thing that makes her knees warm and her toes cold.

There aren’t very many options for radio in Marian Valley, a community of which couldn’t fill up the population of a college campus. She’d taken one of the JJ-made CDs from the kitchen, and it’s playing now. She hasn’t heard any of these songs before but they’re beautiful, the kind that can fit any moment. 

She cruises past the gas station and the tiny shop that sells ice cream, to the flower shop, the first place on a small strip of shops perpendicular to Main Street. It has an actual name but she soon learns the locals affectionately call it Naomi-Lou’s. 

Naomi-Lou owns a very nice shop, Emily soon discovers as she maneuvers through shelves of roses and lilacs and little daisies. There are greeting cards and welcome mats, highlighting the spaces between the flowers. It’s quite small but it’s full and it smells incredible.

A thin older woman stands behind the register and grins upon seeing Emily. “Hi dear! What can I do for you?”

Emily steps up to the counter. “Hi, I’m Emily Davis, a reporter out of Chicago for the Tribune. I was wondering if there was something you could help me with.”

The woman nods. “Anything I could do. John came in here all the time for peonies for his wife. Their soil wasn’t good so they couldn’t grow them themselves. They’re her favorite.” The woman sighs. “He was a very thoughtful man.”

“Did he mention any troubles in his life recently?”

The woman shakes her head. “No. His two kids are grown and moved out, the youngest just graduated college. He was all about family. As far as I could tell, things were going well for him.”

“Did you know Bianca Ramirez or Kaylie Newman at all?”

“I knew Kaylie. She worked right down the street, cutting hair. She used to do my coloring”, the woman says, patting her hair. “I couldn’t deal with getting old.”

Emily nods, scratching the information down quickly. “How was she getting along?”

The woman sighs again, and lowers her voice. “You didn’t hear this from me. Kaylie and I were fairly close, and one day when we went to lunch at the restaurant just right down that way”, the woman says, motioning. “She said she’d gotten a phone call, a real mean one, saying something like she was gonna go to Hell and was committing crimes against God and just crazy stuff like that, and that she should repent before it was too late.”

“When was this?”

“A little under two weeks ago. But really, don’t print my name. I don’t want either of their families thinking I invaded their privacy. And as much as I didn’t know Bianca, Kaylie spoke so highly of her. They were all good people.”

“Thank you”, Emily began, stepping away.

She’s startled when the woman grabs her by the wrist, hand trembling. Her voice falters and tears bead at the end of her tired eyes. “No truly, they were good people. You’ll see that, the more you ask people.”

Emily looks sincerely at her. “I don’t doubt that for a second. And I know the police are working really hard to catch the man who did this.”

“Thank you”, the woman whispers. “I wish you good luck.”

Emily turns her arm over, so that she’s holding the woman’s hand. “I appreciate that.”

The woman gently pulls her arm back, leaning against the counter with the other. “Thank you again.”

Emily nods. “Of course.”

+++

 

Emily leans the seat of the car back, letting the air conditioning blow strands of dark hair across her face and into her mouth before she tucks them behind her ears. 

She dials Hotch’s number quickly, something she’d long ago learned to do without looking up contact information. The phone rings only three times and then he answers, his voice collected yet curious, a combination Emily isn’t adept at reflecting.

“Hotchner.”

“Yeah, it’s Emily.”

“Prentiss, hi. How did the interviews go?”

“Well. I just wanted to give you the rundown.”

“Yeah, what have you got?”

Hotch’s perfect grammar amuses Emily and she finds herself smiling as she flips open the little notebook.

“Kaylie had confided in a Naomi-Lou, I don’t have a last name, an older woman who runs a flower shop called Bygones and Buds on Main, that she’d received a threatening phone call a couple weeks ago, a week before she was murdered. Also, Kaylie talked of Bianca a lot in the workplace and I’m supposed to meet Naomi tomorrow for lunch. Nobody really knew Bianca; she worked in Princeton as a nurse and didn’t spend much time out in the town. As far as John goes, he was pretty well-liked. He didn’t mention any problems to anyone but from as far as I can gather, he pretty much kept to himself. I’d talk to the wife, I don’t think she’ll open up to a journalist.”

She hears Hotch pause for a moment. “Thanks Emily. Keep us posted.”

“Yeah”, she promises and hangs up the phone.


	7. 40 Day Dream

As soon as Emily opens the door, JJ shouts from the living room couch.

“Hey! Do you want pizza?”

Emily drops her keys on the dining room table and her bag on the floor. “That sounds wonderful.”

“What kind?”

“Anything not involving mushroom or strange fish.”

“Beautiful.” She mumbles something then, indistinct.

“Are you on the phone?” Emily says, sitting on the other couch.

JJ nods. “How about half cheese, and half…” She looks up at Emily questioningly.

“Pepperoni”, Emily whispers.

“Pepperoni”, JJ says to the unknown person on the other line. 

A few minutes pass. “Yeah, no…no extra cheese, yeah, thank you!” She hangs up. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes and get this, they deliver.”

“That’s lucky.”

“Yeah”, JJ agrees, settling into the couch. “You wanna watch a movie?”

“Yes, but best we stick to something that won’t make you terrified.”

“I wasn’t scared”, JJ insists.

“You woke up clinging to me”, Emily says without thinking, and once she ponders over what she’s said blood rushes to her face.

JJ smiles. “I do that”, she says softly.

Emily smiles in return, unsure of why she does. After awhile though, she breaks away the contact and rests her head on the end of the couch. “You know what I heard was a good movie?”

“What?”

“’Silence of the Lambs.’”

“Not funny.”

Emily chuckles. 

“Well”, JJ says, scrolling through the channels. “See anything good and free?”

“What an oxymoron. No, not yet, oh wait, ‘Hocus Pocus.’”

“Hocus...Pocus.”

“Yes. Hocus Pocus. It’s a movie about witches. It’s hilarious.”

“Good enough for me. It’s close enough to Halloween, anyway.”

JJ clicks on the title, and it begins right during the opening credits. “Perfect timing.”

The credits finish and clips of a young boy and his sister play, preceded by him going to an old house occupied by witches to save her. 

A couple minutes later, when the witches are strung up for their crimes and they make a joke about the nooses being necklaces and say nonsense rhymes, JJ is laughing so hard Emily becomes worried she’ll choke.

The doorbell rings and JJ is unable to stand, so Emily gets the pizza. She tips the deliveryman with a five from the table, and wishes him well.

Emily sets the pizza on the coffee table in front of her, taking a place beside JJ. “Don’t choke or anything. I don’t want to be responsible for your death.”

JJ wipes a tear from her right eye. “No promises.”

+++

JJ stretches out her feet, and kicks the pizza box to the floor. “That movie was wonderful.”

“See?”

“Yes, I do.” She straightens her back and as she does, she rolls over the remote, causing the channel to turn. “Oh, shit.”

“Hey, it’s music!”

The channel had turned to one of those radio station programs, and now a song begins to play. 

“And it’s kind of nice”, she says, “Something you dance to.”

“Sounds kind of eighties…” Emily begins and as she cranes her neck over, she sees JJ tapping her foot to the beat. She stands, crosses over to the couch JJ occupies, and holds out her hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Well, Miss Davis, you are quite charming”, she compliments, and stands, walking to an open space with her hand in Emily’s.

Emily clasps JJ’s hand aligned to her shoulder, and quickly falls into a rhythmic rusty rendition of a waltz she’d learned in a dance class. JJ follows and initiates the next two steps. “You know how to dance.”

JJ laughs, following Emily. “More or less.”

Emily holds her arm out for JJ to spin, and she does so. She pulls JJ close so that her upper back rests against Emily’s shoulder for only a moment, her smile wide as she looks back and up into Emily’s bright eyes. Emily’s hand still holds onto hers and her other arm wraps around JJ’s abdomen, swaying her once before spinning her out and catching her in the same position they’d started in.

The music is mesmerizing and it’s a miracle JJ still knows how to dance because it’s been years; when she’d initially learned and when someone knew how to make her move.

The only light emitting comes from the soft glow of the overhead light in the dining room and the TV, softly playing this song through the old speakers.

Maybe someone could find flaws in this; JJ knows how people find flaws in everything. It’s what we’re wired to do, to pick out the weaknesses in things and in people and situations because that’s how we live, knowing how to take advantage of them and survive. But there’s no instinct in the way their moment is pure, and not full of inequality and the drive to get ahead, how it’s safe and sure, and how there’s something in it that nearly makes JJ lose her balance. Because when JJ missteps and falls forward and Emily’s arms envelope her, there’s no room for inhibition.

She can feel Emily’s heart through her shirt, unbuttoned and signifying the end of the end of the day. And there’s no sun to illuminate her face but JJ can make out her features perfectly; she remembers how the edges of her eyes squint to make her look like she’s smiling when she isn’t and she knows now how her lips fall in a delicate straight line but she’s not scared, not sad, and how her jaw is clenched but she’s breathing deeper and her eyelids are heavy, laying something with a seriousness unrecognizable in the limited air between them. As her hand holds JJ’s so tight Emily’s nails almost dig into the back of her hand, along the delicate bones of JJ’s soft and rigid fingers, she doesn’t feel like another casualty of the job she’s in and she doesn’t feel invalid. How is it possible then, she wonders, to be so aware yet breath the familiarity of being a common wanderer; like everyone else, seeking who she is in that moment, and who she will be when it’s over? 

It’s moments like one where Emily and JJ’s bodies are pressed together and a light sweat makes fly-aways in JJ’s ponytail like makes her wish they’d last just a little longer and she’ll live every second of this wishing there’d be more seconds, because in this sense she’s just like everyone else. But what’s different, she’ll admit she feels something.

When JJ breathes in the last of Emily’s wine and rich perfume a tiny fault line cracks its way in her. 

See, people fill their fault lines in many ways, ways that aren’t the ones to be followed, hence why they’re named ‘fault’ lines. Some fill their veins with poison and some follow strangers blindly into bed, and only in their last faltering moments do they realize the thing that could’ve fulfilled them was right there the entire time. This is confirmed only when they separate somehow and JJ misses her like the way she just was.

They say nothing, as they often do when they don’t know what’s going to happen. Instead, JJ picks up her plate and takes it to the sink and rinses out her wineglass. And when the water gets too hot under her hands she doesn’t move, only waiting until Emily’s footsteps grow fainter so she can flinch.

One thought in her own sea of incoherency reads true, if it’s read at all; and it’s that nothing will be the same between them, and she hopes the remainder of her effort won’t be spend holding fast the floodgates.


	8. Debriefing and Dread

The next morning, Emily leaves before JJ’s awake. She conducts her interviews the way she knows how to: calm, collected, and professional, three traits she had managed to lose in these short few days. Page after page on her little notebook becomes filled with the pieces of these people, and when the time comes for her to meet Naomi-Lou for lunch, her heart is heavy.

Naomi-Lou has already ordered shortly before Emily walks through the door and instantly, she apologizes. “Sorry dear, I hadn’t waited long at all but my blood sugar was getting low.”

“No, it’s okay”, Emily reassures as she takes her place beside Naomi. The waitress instantly comes to the table.

“Hi, um, actually, can I get the grilled chicken with a salad on the side?”

“Of course. You’re a tiny thing, you sure you don’t want anything else?”

Emily smiles in the way that flattered people smile and she shakes her head. “No, no thank you. Thanks anyway.”

The waitress grins and closes her notes, walking quickly back to the kitchen.

“She always was social”, Naomi-Lou says quietly with a smile. She sighs and leans back on the upright chair, sipping a glass of iced tea, condensation rolling down her fingers. “I ordered you some water, if you need anything else Sherri’s right around the corner.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course dear.” She gazes to the window. “Everything seems to move so slowly since these things have been happening. Everyone is different. There aren’t many people here anyway so this, this has hit them hard. They’ll talk to you now, because they’re desperate for an answer, you know? It’s crazy how even the most small-minded folks can get like that.”

She knows the feeling all too well.

“They’ll get one.”

Naomi-Lou looks over. “All of the murders have happened here. Why would a killer come from the big city to hurt a bunch of people in a small town? He wouldn’t. That means the man is from around here and when you’ve been here as long as I have, you know everyone. There’s a big chance he’s someone I know and the only thing worse than my friends dying is someone I know being responsible for it.”

“This isn’t going to be easy.”

Naomi-Lou captures her in a haunting gaze. “Now, as smart as you are, honey, that is one of the first things you’ve told me that I can certainly believe.”

+++

She finally returns home after she briefs Hotch and finishes her interviews in enough time so that she can get ready for the party. Luckily she’d had the sense to pack a dress she could wear for such an occasion, and heels and jewelry and things she didn’t get to wear often. 

Emily pulls on one of her favorite unworn dresses hanging in the back of her closet, rarely entered. It’s an off-shoulder gray, black and white patterned dress which a hem that hangs high on her toned thighs. It doesn’t cling to her body at all but it still flatters her, something she’ll admit. She slips on a kind of off-white bracelet on a silver chain. Her hair takes more work and the time spent tying it into a pretty updo makes itself known on the undersides of her arms and when she finally puts them down to look at the finished product, the blood rushes to her hands.

She’d already picked light gray; very light sandals that lifted her another inch or so off the ground. She hoped JJ picked something similar because Emily stood taller before.

She applies a little bit of eyeliner and her already long eyelashes become longer with the mascara she has. She tops it all with lip-gloss and as she purses her lips together to spread it, she opens the door. And that’s when she sees JJ.

JJ’s wearing a short, black leather dress with a bit of a maroon at the top. The neckline is high and her hair is up loosely, allowing strands of hair to fall around her shoulders. She has in silver earrings and her shoes make her stand tall; black heels that come up slightly past her ankles. It’s not revealing at all but she’s incredibly beautiful, and it’s a look Emily wishes she could pull off. 

“Ready to go?” JJ asks and Emily realizes it’s the first thing she’s said all day.

Emily nods, grabbing a black purse from the counter. 

“Let’s go.”


	9. Vodka as a Secondary Color

The bar is a place JJ had never seen though, on this particular trip, she hadn’t been out much. 

The bass vibrates her hands already; she feels it in her fingertips, and she can see lights flashing on the inside. “I bet they don’t get to do this often.”

Emily unbuckles her seatbelt. “Let’s see how crazy they get.”

The only thing occupying the first room is a bar around the corner where the walls meet, small and almost unoccupied. The dance floor however, is crowded.

Emily takes JJ by the hand, leading her through the crowd. They sit in a couple of empty stools, and the bartender is quick to come around.

“You want a margarita?” Emily nearly shouts.

“Can I have vodka?”

Emily laughs. “Yeah. The same for me!” she tells the man.

He does so, using his fore and middle fingers to hold the small glasses and hand them to the two women.

“Cheers!” 

They tip their heads back, slamming the glasses back down on the counter. Emily laughs again. “I’d have another if Hotch wouldn’t kill us.”

“Yeah!” JJ chuckles. “Let’s go dance instead.”  
They find a tiny space, free of anyone, and it’s then that Emily turns around with a smile on her face.

The minutes drag on and they dance a little, gradually being pushed together by the surrounding bodies. The sensation is overwhelming and Emily doesn’t even have time or the ability to tell her who they’re looking for because it’s so loud, the music is so loud and it’s hot, with every second JJ’s temperature rises. The lights flash with no rhythm whatsoever, painting Emily’s face in multi-colors. She’s dancing expertly and JJ finds herself falling short. 

Emily does a little number and it’s nothing short of inimitable. JJ challenges her anyway, circling her hips and lifting her arms above her head.

“Hey!” a man shouts from behind them. “Get a little closer.”

Emily laughs and steps forward, sealing the last of the space between them. JJ’s stomach presses against Emily’s and her upraised arms hook around Emily’s neck, pulling her close. 

The man and a couple others cheer as Emily works her way dancing down JJ’s body. Emily’s hands run down along her sides and adrenaline shoots wildly through every vein. 

When Emily stands back up, JJ turns around in Emily’s arms, leaning her back against Emily’s body. Her hands rest behind her in Emily’s hair, and Emily slides her hands down JJ’s stomach and her palms rest on JJ’s hips, fingers angled toward her pelvis. 

JJ gasps at the sensation; grateful the music is loud so Emily can’t hear. 

When the music becomes silent with the exception of a single drumbeat, JJ grinds into Emily’s hips. One of her hands falls from Emily’s hair and covers one of Emily’s hands on her hip. With the other, JJ feels Emily’s hair loosening under her fingers but doesn’t care, tangling it anyway.

The thing that makes JJ weak in the knees though, is the sound of Emily’s breathing, hard against her neck.

JJ slips her hand from her hip around to Emily’s lower back, sliding it over her ass and pulling her closer.

JJ hears Emily make a sound in the back of her throat and she inhales, breathing in Emily’s vodka, the perfume JJ knows she’d sprayed on her neck. JJ circles her hips into Emily again, and again, and Emily’s fingers curl into JJ’s waist. 

When the men cheer again, this time louder, JJ laughs, pulling away and bowing. She grabs Emily’s hand this time, leading her away.

“Everyone in this club saw us!” JJ shouts.

“That was the point!”

JJ smiles. “I don't want to ruin your fun but I kind of want to go home.”

Emily nods. “I feel you. It’s getting late.”

They stumble out the door, a wild collection of heels and laughs. “That was so much fun”, JJ says, looking back at Emily, her smile only fading when she sees Emily’s face.

“Yeah”, she says softly. “It was.”

JJ hits the wall gently on her side as she walks to the car. “That was quite a show you put on in there.”

“Me? You were the one doing the showing.”

JJ grins and as she looks back, Emily’s face is an strange combination of intrigued yet confused, like what someone would look like if they wanted to understand a lesson somebody was teaching but couldn’t, instead, reveling in everything they already knew. Her eyes are smiling but her face is not; she isn’t relaxed and JJ doesn’t know what to say, so instead of saying anything at all, she turns around and slides in the passenger seat, silently watching Emily take her place beside her.

It’s so them, this moment is, because a thousand things could’ve been said, they could go a thousand ways but again they’ll take the way they know well. They exemplify the cowardice people want to believe they have when they keep the truth hidden. But what the truth is, and JJ knows it, is that people have every ability, every chance to come clean about things, and it’s a matter of choice. Emotionally people will remain hidden, and she is no different. The thick skin that prevents such things is as lasting as ever tonight, and as the moonlight shines across her knees is the only thing JJ’ll focus on when she’s next to her. Because Emily’s beautiful, God, she’s fucking beautiful and the realization is wrapping its hands around her neck like a vice, dragging her down toward her own inevitable grave and the hell she will surely encounter if she keeps lying to herself. 

But she’ll shut her mouth and sleep on her own side of the bed, because she’s human, and she won’t fall if she doesn’t know the consequence. How long then, will she shove the possibilities away? How long before she knows whether or not her monumental what-ifs are plausible? It’s just another thing she doesn’t know, and just another risk she can’t afford to take.


	10. 5:48

It’s a phone call that awakes Emily the following morning.

Through her blurry vision she reads a 5:42 on the clock and she reaches blindly for her buzzing cell phone. She yanks it from its charger and sleepily answers.

“Prentiss.”

“Emily, there’s been another murder.”

Emily closes her eyes. “Damn it.”

“Gideon, Morgan and I are going to the scene. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Wait, who was it?”

Through the speaker, Hotch sighs. “John Brewster’s wife.”

Emily is silent. 

And Hotch says nothing when he hangs up the phone.

Beside her, JJ shifts. A strap of her silk top falls down her shoulder and her long hair is tousled, the messed strands falling unevenly above the bed as she sits up, propping herself on her arm to face Emily. “What’s wrong?”

Emily leans back, hitting her head gently against the headboard. “Melanie Brewster is dead.”

“John’s wife”, JJ says, emotionless. She sits up, mimicking Emily’s action of leaning against the back of the bed.

“There’s something we’re not doing.”

JJ shakes her head. “No, this is not our fault. Remember, Hotch says he stalked his victims about a week before they were killed. There’s that walk thing in a couple days I think. We make another appearance there to make sure he’s seen us.”

Emily stays quiet.

“Why are you so shaken up about this?”

Emily looks over, face sullen. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll kill yourself over the things you could’ve done.”

“So many things could’ve changed, been done differently. And miles away from me somebody else dies. Somebody else always dies. Why death is rarely peaceful, I don’t know.”

“You’re fazed.”

Emily bites her lip.

“Don’t put the blame on yourself.”

Emily’s chest burns. “No, I don’t do that. It’s irrational. Why would I?”

“I don’t know”, JJ says. “Why are you crying?”

Emily looks away as a cold tear falls down her cheek. “I’m sorry, I must be tired.”

She feels a tap on her shoulder. When she turns around, JJ’s hands are upturned like she’s welcoming somebody, motioning for her to move closer. “Come here.”

Emily scoots over into JJ’s shaky embrace, and it’s then she realizes they’re fundamentally the same. Emotion makes the cracks deeper and no matter how evenly JJ’s heart beats against the side of Emily’s head, or how softly the lavender glow of dawn falls against the sheets, they offer no reparations to the thing that leaves her breathless and quietly drowning beneath the waves. 

JJ’s hand holds Emily’s head to her chest. The other rests on Emily’s arm. JJ’s thumb strokes across her skin and Emily shuts her eyes, listening to the gentle melody of JJ’s breath in the quiet hours.

It isn’t more than a few seconds after when she feels a tear fall from above and onto her wrist.

Through her the tunnel vision one’s own sadness often provides she slips her fingers slowly into JJ’s, squeezing gently.

Such great occasions hold moments like these, and in such low times do people find themselves together. Soft curtains blowing across the floor tether Emily to this room, permitting her mind to adventure but not wander. JJ’s skin is soft and her scent is sweet. No matter how hard Emily may try to run away from what they can create; they’re always pulled back together. It’s circumstance that may be divine intervention, but what to do with the time they’re given, well, that’s up to them.

Something is missing from inside of her; it’s this that causes Emily to grieve, and another tear to come together and free-fall from her eyes. 

She exhales her silent desperation and breathes in JJ’s company. She exists now; 5:48 is theirs. Swept up in the winds of possibility, she doesn’t notice that yet another thing has been stolen.

Maybe this time, she’ll let it go.

In JJ’s faulty embrace, all is reconciled, for now. JJ’s just as brokenhearted as she is and this morning, it’s okay. They correspond through exhalations and nails brushing lightly against fingertips. Though Emily’s heart races and her knees become weak, her eyes grow heavy, and the last thing she sees before she drifts out of consciousness is JJ’s other hand close over hers, clutching her softly into safety.

Contrary to her past beliefs, knowing JJ like this is a blessing.


	11. The Loser

In her cotton shorts and quarter-length shirt, Emily joins JJ on the couch the next morning.

“Does Hotch have anything planned for us?”

“No”, JJ says, shaking her head. “Just the fall walk thing, tomorrow night.”

“What is it?”

JJ shrugs. “I guess they set up Halloween and autumn decorations and businesses hand out cookies and cider.”

Emily sighs. “That sounds nice. Hotch says our unsub could own a business, so we just have to make sure we’re seen by a lot of people.” 

Emily in the morning feels like a different person, like the exhausted soul of an Emily doppelganger performs Emily-like tasks before ten AM. Because her speech is the same, and her body is the same, but she’s one of those people who have headaches reading the newspaper in the evening and have more caffeine in their bodies than white blood cells. She’s just like everybody else in that sense, then, but it was never Emily to blend with the crowd.

“Do you want to take a run with me?” JJ blurts out.

Emily nods. “Where at?”

“Through the woods maybe.”

“I haven’t done that in forever. I’ll go. Give me ten minutes.”

True to her word, Emily appears on the front porch about ten minutes later, hair tied up about midway. Her shorts are loose around her thighs and she’s wearing a t-shirt from a running event in Boston. 

JJ tosses her a water bottle and puts hers between her legs as she tightens her ponytail. When she lifts her arms above her head, the airy white tank top she’d chosen lifts up, exposing her toned stomach. She’d picked out workout leggings, black ones she didn’t get to wear very often. The sun is already hot despite the fact that it’s fall, and she’s grateful for the soft breeze whistling through the trees.

“All right”, Emily says. “We could run about a mile and then turn around, or shorter distance if you’re not up to running that far this early.”

“I feel like I’ve been challenged.”

Emily grins. “Last one back makes the winner lunch.”

“In that case, I hope you lose. You see that opening right there, past the garage and to the left? Yeah, we’ll just run through-“

Emily takes off.

“Not fair!” JJ shouts, sprinting in an attempt to pass her. 

Emily looks back, laughing. “Don’t run so hard so fast, you’ll wear yourself out.”

“In your dreams, Prentiss.”

JJ stumbles into the woods after Emily, skillfully avoiding poison ivy and spider webs and thick branches lying on the ground from the storms a week earlier. Whatever locusts haven’t died screech out and birds call to each other, repeating songs, whistling new things. What fun it would be to be a bird, JJ thinks. They don’t know a lot of things.

Emily’s gained even more ground, leaving JJ in the dust. She’s crazy good at this, jumping to the side when she needed to. JJ feels herself getting hotter and sweat beads at the back of her neck. It feels about seventy degrees and JJ feels out of breath. Maybe she’s out of shape, maybe she’s tired but she wouldn’t give Emily the satisfaction of seeing her at a disadvantage. 

Farther ahead, Emily shouts. “I’m kind of in the mood for a sandwich.”

“You can make one for yourself when you make one for me, as the loser”, JJ shouts back.

“I’m ahead of you.”

“Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Slow and steady earns you sandwich duty.”

JJ laughs and as she does, she takes her eyes off the ground. Of course, at that exact moment, she decided to step on a rock, loose from the mud, trip, and fall. 

It cuts her up the inside of her lower leg, and she instantly begins to bleed. “Hey, Em?” 

Emily turns around and upon seeing JJ on the earth, she sprints faster than she had before toward her. “What happened?”

JJ wipes the blood off with her thumb, and it is instantly replaced. “I fell.”

Emily kneels beside her. Blood pools and then drips down her ankle. “That looks kind of deep, Jayje.”

JJ shakes her head. “It’s not. But I do need to go back and patch this up.”

Emily stands, extending her hand for JJ to take. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know”, Emily says, nodding and smiling. “But I will.”

JJ smiles gratefully, taking Emily’s hand and standing. She hadn’t really felt the pain before she put pressure on it, and she inhales sharply. “Shit”, she hisses.

“Here”, Emily offers, sliding her arm under JJ’s and around her back. “I’ll help you.”

JJ’s arm drapes over Emily’s shoulder naturally, and together, they begin the slow walk down. Luckily, they’d only been running for about five or ten minutes, so they hadn’t gotten too far. 

JJ hobbles over sticks and stones, surprised at the stinging pain. “This hurts a lot more than it should.”

“We’ll take a look when we get back.”

JJ struggles at the decline, often tripping over things on the ground. “Either I’m really clumsy or it hurts, and I’m clumsy.”

Emily laughs without laughing, and when JJ almost falls again, her other hand presses on JJ’s stomach, to help her balance. 

JJ’s muscles tighten, and she looks up at Emily. Her skin is flushed but not overheated, and the makeup she’d forgotten to wash off the night before is still there. As she helps her down the trail, JJ realizes this is just another one of the Emilys nobody else knew.

People have different versions of themselves living in other people’s minds. JJ knows this. There was Common Emily, the Emily who stayed up late and read case files when everyone else talked. There was Sentimental Emily, not unknown but rarely shown, the kind who cried with you and shared personal things. There was Late-Night Emily and Morning Emily and Coffee Emily and Wine Emily. Then there was JJ’s Emily, an overwhelmingly wonderful combination of all of them, and there would always be the past JJ wouldn’t find out about until much later, but the being of her, the presence of her, is beautiful in and of itself. 

It’s not jealousy, because JJ’s heart is not wrenched; it’s not infatuation, because JJ does not find herself obsessed; and it’s not lust, because sex isn’t Emily, and what she has to offer does not make her completely a person. To want Emily is to surrender the fight in her, to allow her guardrails to recede, to become exalted in the company of her. It’s not a tiring thing, and in her position JJ doesn’t know if it’s a possible thing. She only knows what is true, what is, and not what will be. However, it’s a ride she’s willing to endure.

So in this moment, when Emily’s practically carrying her through the front door and she’s panting because it was a long way down, JJ decides Emily has been fallen for. And even though she’s thinking things she never imagined she would, things she’d tell other people were okay but wouldn’t be fine with them in herself, she isn’t telling herself no, and she’s not telling Emily no. Their connection is more than she could know.

JJ sighs with relief when Emily helps her sit down on the closed toilet seat in the bathroom. She wets a paper towel under the sink and cleans some of the blood from her leg while Emily searches through the cabinets. 

“Found it”, Emily quietly announces, holding up a red zip-up case with a white cross on it. She gets on her knees on the floor, unzipping the thing and pulling bottles and bandages from it. She finds a brown bottle of generic hydrogen peroxide and pours some on a cotton pad. “This is gonna hurt.”

“I’ll be fine”, JJ reassures her.

Emily bites her lip and applies the clear liquid, sending a sharp pain up JJ’s leg. She sucks in a breath and smiles as if to say it didn’t hurt. 

Emily puts antibiotic cream on a large Band-Aid, and then puts it on her leg. “All done!” she says, leaning back on her heels.

JJ smiles. “Thanks Emily. I really appreciate it.”

Emily leans forward, and gently runs her fingers over JJ’s leg. “How did you get all these?”

“What, the-“

“Bruises”, Emily interrupts. “You’ve got a lot of them.”

“I told you, I’m clumsy.”

Emily looks up at her. “You’ve gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah.” JJ sighs. “Thank you.”

Emily laughs lightly. “For what?”

“For taking care of me, I guess, when I didn’t.”

“Of course”, Emily says softly, standing on her feet. She sweeps the wrappers into the trash, and puts the bottles and tubes away. “Let me make you lunch.”

“I thought the loser had to make lunch.”

“I’ll give you a break.”


	12. Finding Forgiveness

Emily sits on a rocking chair in front of the sliding glass in the back, wrapped in a thick sweater and clutching a cup of coffee. Her hair falls over her eyes as she lowers her head. The coffee’s been untouched for about ten minutes and she doesn’t know why she’s sitting there, then again, she doesn’t know why she does a lot of things.

Sometimes she gets sad. Sadness exists like an opaque blackness in the little corners of her, sometimes clouding her mind and sometimes tucking itself away. It’s much like a constant feeling of disappointment, which is complex when she also feels validity.

It’s so close, she can almost taste it. The thing to solve this, whatever it is, it hangs over her head and it’s flashing words yet some how, it’s all miscommunication. It’s funny in a terrible way, how she can profile people day in and day out but she can’t understand herself.

The mug burns against her leg but she doesn’t care. She watches the steam lift from the cup and she breathes it in, letting the vanilla seep into her lungs. Rain falls down the glass, and thunder rumbles quietly in the distance. It’s night and JJ has long since gone to bed. It’s good, a win-win situation because Emily can’t afford JJ seeing her like this. She has an image, an image to protect. Weakness is despised in people’s subconscious because they’re all weak, in their own ways and eventually, it’s not ignorable and they can’t take care of anyone else’s sorrows.

She thought about not coming back, to the job that is. She’s traveled, she has passports. She thought about flying away and living in Switzerland with all the kind people and good food and fresh air, and she thought about Amsterdam, the water and the way bike tires sound as they run over stone streets. So many possibilities and not enough time, Emily thinks, there’s never enough time in the day.

She finally sips her coffee, and it’s a lot cooler. She probably won’t sleep tonight, and it’s no different here than the insomnia at home. Caffeine isn’t helping at all, but it takes the edge off when she’s exhausted but can’t sleep.

She hears the unmistakable sound of feet against carpet, and her heart skips a beat.

JJ.

She pulls up the recliner alongside Emily’s chair, sitting down and leaning back against the old leather. 

“You okay?”

The question is impossible yet she knows the answer, and it’s different from the one she will give. She feels guilty for lying but the consequences of the truth, sometimes, outweigh the ones of a lie.

“Yeah. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You sure?”

JJ’s voice is soft, everything about her is. She is calm, she is gentle, and she’s the reason Emily debates even the next breath.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

JJ shifts so that she’s leaning against the side closer to Emily. “If there’s something going on, and you want to tell me, you can.”

She uses The JJ Tone, light but affirmative, caring yet curious. Emily turns to see the light of the moon in her eyes and washed over her face, illuminating her delicate features. A long sleeve shirt covers her wrists and her hips, and she’s picking at the loose strings of her leggings, but still looking at Emily, expectantly.

Emily looks and looks away.

“Do you believe in God?”

She hears JJ sigh and draw her knees up to her chest. “Sometimes.”

Emily looks back.

“I think there’s something, well, I know there’s something. I can’t afford to think otherwise. Because then, nothing would have meaning. And if I didn’t think my body dies and my spirit lives on, then I fear death, because the thought of not existing is more than I can comprehend. Does that make sense?”

Emily nods.

“And sometimes, things happen that I can’t explain. Someone says something and it gives me hope, and for what? For the possibility that I live longer and I exist as more than myself, and that sets my mind at ease. 

And then I get lonely, and I doubt things. But at the end of the day, when we save somebody’s life, then I think, what I do is more than me, so maybe it’s always that way. It gives me comfort, why not believe?”

JJ’s hair is tied up and it glows golden, almost white in the moonlight. “But people die. Kids still die.”

Emily understands.

“What about you?”

Emily plays with the fabric over her hands. “Yeah.”

JJ moves her eyes from the window.

“I just hope he’s more forgiving that what I’ve been told.”

“Why would you need to worry about forgiveness?”

This isn’t right.

“I’ve done some things.”

No, shut up.

“Like what?”

Don’t answer that.

“Bad decisions as a kid, bad decisions as an adult. There’s a lot I regret. A lot.”

“We all regret things.”

Don’t push further.

“My choices were horrible.”

“You’re not someone who can’t be forgiven.”

“How do you know that?” 

Emily’s tone is weak, and her voice is faltering. This isn’t like her. Goddamnit, none of this is like her.

“I would say everyone is worthy of forgiveness but some people aren’t. You’ve seen them, I’ve seen them too.”

JJ leans closer.

“But you’re not one of them; nothing you’ve done, nothing, can’t be forgiven. Because you’re one of the good guys. And you feel guilty for whatever it is you’ve done. I can tell.”

“How?”

JJ holds out her arm and presses her hand to Emily’s heart.

Emily breathes in against the contact JJ’s making, and she fights the urge to close her eyes. 

“Because your heart is slow, like you’ve accepted it but your questions; you still wonder. And you’re reaching out. You don’t do that often. You know what you’ve done but guilt isn’t something you accept and live with, like it’s something that happened.”

She can feel the heat of JJ’s skin through her sweater. Her fingers are spaced out and the tips of them curl over Emily’s chest, holding her still.

When JJ pulls away, Emily feels her absence almost immediately. The coffee still sits in her lap and the rain is still falling and she looks the same but despite the fact that everything in the world is consistent something has changed. It’s not something she’ll know or recognize, not tonight.

“Come on”, JJ says, standing. “Let’s go to bed.”


	13. Moving

JJ awakes and by the way the sun falls through the blinds and onto her legs, she’s guessing it’s about nine. 

The sheets are bunched around her feet and the space next to her is noticeably empty. She remembers last night well, the pain on Emily’s face and how close she’d been to cracking her, just a bit. She sighs at the memory.

She stretches her legs out straight and lifts her arms above her head. She frees herself from the plain white sheets, stretching again in the light of the window above the dresser. The room is simple, and it looks of home but it doesn’t resemble either of them. A sewing machine with a translucent white cover sits on a desk before the closet, the doors of which have mirrors on them. She can see herself now and nearly gasps with the way her hair is tangled in the front. She redoes the ponytail; grateful she hadn’t just rolled out of bed and walked to the kitchen. 

Just as she turns to inspect a picture on the wall, she hears Emily yell from the front of the house. 

“JJ, I hear you in there! I made breakfast.”

She sounds cheerful, and JJ is relieved. She smiles as she walks down the hallway, lit only by the light of the sun. Emily sits before the stove, making bacon and eggs.

“I’m only a mediocre cook. Don’t expect this to be as good as yours.”

“You give me too much credit”, JJ says, sitting at the breakfast bar. “And yourself too little.”

Emily uses a spatula to scoop them onto the plate, handing it to her. “You’ll see why here in a second.”

JJ takes a bite, and of course it’s good, and she smiles to reassure her. “These really are good.”

Emily raises her eyebrows.

“I’m not just saying that.”

“Okay, I trust you”, Emily says, giving herself the rest of them and switching off the stovetop.

“What’s the plan for today?”

Emily sits down next to her, reaching for the saltshaker. “We have the walk tonight. I’ve done my interviews.”

JJ nods, taking a sip of the orange juice Emily had laid out. “We’ve been here for quite a few days. If we’ve been spotted, hopefully he turns up soon.”

Emily looks like she’s about to say something, but she’s interrupted by the phone. She runs to the table across from them under the light switch and picks up the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

JJ eats the bacon.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. We’d be glad to help. We’ve got to leave here at about five-thirty, so you’ve got us until then.” Emily pauses. “Don’t mention it Jean. All right, we’ll see you.” She hangs up and chuckles as she sits back down. “We just got ourselves a moving job.”

JJ’s eyes widen. “What do we have to do?”

Emily snickers. “You remember all that stuff in the spare bedroom?”

“No…” JJ says in disbelief.

“Yes.”

JJ leans back in her seat. “What time is she coming over?”

“She’s sending the van here at two, and she’s paying us twenty bucks each to do it; she’s got work today.”

“Well, for twenty bucks…”

+++

JJ and Emily drop the couch down onto the floor of the moving van, each sighing loudly as they did so. Emily moves her foot out of the way so the leg of it doesn’t break her ankle. Her arms hang at her sides and the muscles under her arms burn. “I may or may not be out of shape.”

JJ laughs, wiping sweat from the back of her neck. “We’re almost done. Don’t quit on me now.”

“No, I’m not quitting. It’s just lifting heavy things is not exactly my forte.”

“You can say that again.”

JJ leans forward on her arms, resting her hands on the couch. 

Fuck, Emily can see right down her shirt.

JJ had gotten quite tan during their time together, and the contrast of her golden skin is brilliant against the white tank top hugging her upper body. She’s wearing jean shorts that fold up on the ends; they’re ripped and although they’re not particularly exposing, the sight of them is somehow overwhelming. Emily pretends she doesn’t notice, straightening her back and resting her hands on her hips.

The rain last night had cooled off the town, and Emily tries not to shiver. The grass is still wet and her tennis shoes are nearly soaked. She’s in a cold sweat now, a feeling she doesn’t particularly like.

Of course JJ still looks wonderful, though it’s now almost five and they’ve been doing this for three hours. Her hair stays up, as Emily’s does not because her hair is thin, something she’s always cursed. 

“We’ve only got a couple more boxes”, Emily finds herself saying.

JJ nods. “Let’s get this done.”

The bedroom is pleasantly empty, with the exception of the obvious bed and a couple of old dressers. The paint is an old light blue and it’s peeling at the bottom. Yet, despite the age, it looks comfortable and nice. Two boxes sit in the corner of the room by the closet.

Emily crouches between the one closest to her, dead-lifting it from the floor. However, she soon realizes it’s not been taped because two books fall from the side.

“Hey Jayje, you wanna get those?”

“Yeah”, JJ says, bending over to pick them up. Out of curiosity, she flips the first one open. “Oh my god”, she mutters.

“What is it?”

JJ holds up the book, which Emily discovers to be a photo album because behind the cover a photo of Jean in what looks to be her twenties is taped to the back. “No way.” Emily hoists the box over on top of the bed, sitting in front of it. “Let me see the other one.”

JJ sits next to Emily, handing her the older book. Emily runs her fingers over the maroon, leather cover before she opens it.

It’s a black and white old picture of a man in a dark suit, lounged across a folding chair on a front lawn, and a young woman with her hands on his shoulder, and a crowd of people behind them. Emily slips the picture out of the plastic covering.

“Check this out JJ. These are Jean’s parents, back in ’33.”

JJ smiles upon seeing the picture. “They’re good looking people.”

Emily flips carefully through. They’re in order of dates, and it shows her parents getting older, becoming pregnant with Jean and another little boy, to playing with seven year-old Jean in the same front yard. She watches Jean grow up, and it strikes her when she sees a photo of Jean in ‘73, in front of a college campus, waving back to the person holding the camera.

“I think I’ve got a more recent one”, JJ says, “Because here’s Jean with her little girl, and, oh.”

“What?”

JJ looks up. “There are no more pictures of her after ’81.”

“You sure she didn’t just move out?”

“No. From the looks of it, she was born in ’77.”

Emily sighs, slumping over forward, a familiar feeling of dread washing over her head. “She died.”

JJ closes the book. “Yeah.”

Emily slips the book back into the box. “I’m gonna take this out.”

JJ does the same, lifting the last box with little effort.


	14. Keep Your Eyes Open

“JJ, hurry up! I’ve got to take a shower”, Emily calls, knocking at the door.

She hears the blow-dryer switch off. “Sorry! I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Did you already get dressed?”

She hears JJ pause. “Well, not exactly.”

Emily smirks, leaning back against the wall across the bathroom door. She spots a nail sticking out and she wraps her left leg around her other one.

She hears someone moving towards the door in the bathroom and she knows exactly what’s going to happen. She’s not dressed, and she’s going to open the door. 

Emily steps closer and the doorknob twists slowly. 

Do it, she dares.

The shadows of JJ’s feet obstruct two spaces of light shining underneath the door and they grow as she steps even closer.

Emily holds her breath.

A crack of light appears at the doorway and she doesn’t move. Not at all.

JJ opens the door the rest of the way, and there she is. Nothing separates them and she’s not wearing clothes underneath the heavy purple towel wrapped around her body. Drops of water cascade down her legs and her hair is undone. She’s not smiling, neither of them are and Emily’s heart is suspended in her chest. She feels no air, no blood running through her veins. Curse her, she thinks, because looking at her like this and feeling this isn’t her fault. 

Emily steps back so JJ can leave the bathroom and she watches her go. Through the open door of the bedroom she can see JJ’s clothes piled on top of the bed.

Casting her eyes down she closes the bathroom door behind her. She unbuttons her shorts and slides them down her legs. The steam from JJ’s shower still hangs in the air and attaches itself to the mirror. 

She’s wearing an old t-shirt and it’s soon over her head, joining her shorts in a dark pile on the floor.

She looks at herself in the mirror, wearing just light pink underwear and a white bra. Very rarely does she match, and she thinks she’ll start.

She unclasps the bra and pushes the straps down the arms, slipping it off and onto the ground. Her underwear are next and she’s bare, shivering despite the fact the bathroom is still warm.

She twists the shower handle down toward the red ‘H’. It becomes warm almost instantly and she steps in, moving the shower curtain over to the wall behind her.

A hot stream of water sprays against her chest, rejuvenating her senses. She likes showering and she often takes far too long, but she won’t today. She takes the bar of soap off the rack and as suds form over her skin, she thinks of the way JJ had looked at her when she opens the door.

She recalls the curve of her collarbones and her small shoulders. She remembers how JJ’s breasts had been pushed up against the hem of the towel, draped around her body. She remembers the bones of JJ’s back as she’d walked away, how her muscles had moved over her spine. Her body is small but she’s built, as she had proved to the team multiple times.

She cranes her neck and the water falls from her body in little streams, becoming cloudy with the soap. And every time she closes her eyes she reminisces each conversation, each sideways touch and each stare, each silent communication and she’s screwed, she realizes, so maybe, for at least the next hour or so, she’ll keep her eyes open.

+++

Emily props herself off the wall with her elbow and she checks the time. 

5:36.

“We’re gonna be late!” she yells.

She hears JJ’s voice from in the back. “I’m coming!”

JJ rushes down the hallway, feet sliding across the carpet.

“You’re asking to get shocked on the doorknob.”

She says this because she doesn’t have the courage to say JJ looks beautiful, exceptionally beautiful. The temperature had managed to dip below forty-five, yet JJ had dressed for the erratic weather. She wears a navy-blue coat with gold buttons down the front, and tight jeans that clung to her ankles. She wears black boots, short ones pulled over the ends of the jeans. Her hair is lightly curled, falling in loose waves over her shoulders. She wears a white cotton band over her forehead and over her ears.

Her blue eyes stand out against her black eyeliner and the mascara lengthening her already long eyelashes. She walks confidently and she’s wearing that perfume, the one Emily likes.

She smiles and Emily doesn’t know why, but she smiles in return. “Ready?”

JJ nods. “Let’s go.”

Emily grabs her purse from the dining room table, slinging it over her shoulder. 

She decides to drive and she slides into the passenger seat. JJ gets in beside her and as Emily switches the key forward the radio plays, and she’d forgotten she took one of JJ’s CDs from the kitchen and put them in the car. 

JJ smiles upon hearing the first song. “You like this stuff?”

Emily smiles. “Yeah.”

“This band is really good”, JJ says as they accelerate down the road, and Emily swerves to avoid potholes. “Very calming.” 

Emily silently agrees and it isn’t long before they roll into Marian Valley. 

They’d done a hell of a job with the decorations. Orange and yellow wreaths are hung on the streetlights and a man in a white sheet stands, scaring people in front of the bank. JJ laughs at him.

“What a job.”

They park down the restaurant on Main, where Emily had lunch with Naomi-Lou. The streets are lined with mostly children and around where the ghost man is a man with a tractor pulls kids around in tiny cars. A couple old women sell cider in the lobby of the bank and it’s to her dismay that Emily realizes she’ll have to walk past Ghost Man.

JJ tiptoes into the bank by sneaking around Emily, and it’s then Ghost Man decides to attack.

“Boo!”

Emily slides past him. “Don’t quit your day job”, she mutters light-heartedly.

“My mom says the same thing”, says Ghost Man.

The women hold out two cups for them, and they smile in thanks. “Hey, can I have another?” Emily asks.

The shorter woman of the two nods, holding out another glass. 

“Thank you”, Emily leaves, with JJ trailing behind. She hands a cup to Ghost Man.

“Thanks man”, says Ghost Man.

“In return, you don’t get to ‘boo’ me for the rest of the night.”

“Fair enough”, says Ghost Man, lifting the cup under his sheet to take a drink.

JJ laughs in amusement of their interaction. She sips the cider and motions to a man on the corner of the street. “He’s pretty good.”  
The man looks to be about fifty, the average age of people in this town. He strums an acoustic guitar and Emily immediately recognizes it as one of her favorite Creedence Clearwater Revival songs, and she sings softly along.

“You’re good at that.”

JJ’s looking up at Emily, and her tone is sincere. 

“You must think things of me that most people don’t.”

She looks down and sees JJ bite her lip and smile. “Then most people haven’t heard you sing.”


	15. After Dark

JJ forgets how quickly the sun sets in September.

Minutes turned to hours in the thin streets of Marian Valley. Most families had gone home, as it was nine now.

The moon is bright tonight in a different way. The light is definite but soft, and the way it shines on Emily’s face is stunning. She can see everything on Emily’s face this way; the crook of her neck, the shadows in her collarbone, the curve of her lips and way her eyes are wrinkled with happiness. She could live like this for a while longer.

They’d strayed off Main Street, walking down over the railroad tracks and into a dimly lit neighborhood. The streetlights shine like stars and are no more decorations back here.

They’ve grown silent and the only sounds are their shoes against the road, the sounds of rocks under their feet.

“I don’t want to go back.”

Emily’s revelation is obvious, at least for her. And JJ would be lying if she said this wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

JJ looks up, and Emily’s face is stern, holding. 

“Why not?”

Emily’s head lowers. “This isn’t tiring.”

“What isn’t, this place?”

“That’s a big part of it. It’s quiet, and it’s new.

But I’m not done with the job, far from, no matter how hard it gets, you know? You’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.”

JJ knows.

“You know, even though when we get back, and it’s still the city, and we’re still profiling the people there, I’m still here.”

Emily begins a sigh and then sucks it back in about halfway through, something she does when she doesn’t know what to say, when she’s unsure.

“I feel like I’m leaving something here.”

JJ tugs on Emily’s sleeve, motioning her to a bench on the side of the street; a bus stop.

JJ straightens her feet as she sits down, pushing rocks away. Her hair’s become straighter and it hangs over her eyes. Through it though, she sees Emily, reminded again of the way her face becomes sullen when no one’s around to be smiled at.

It’s wearing thin, JJ decides. Whatever cover she’d applied to prevent herself from feeling the raw connection from her to Emily is dissipating. So when she looks at Emily, serious in the night, and she remembers her confessions a little later than this time last night, and she loves what she sees, she accepts it as her fate.

Inevitability is like falling, but not admitting where you’re going to land. It’s the painful seething of injustice, and then desperation, and in the dust of the first two you don’t realize you’ve come to terms with what you will be when it settles. So maybe it’s not fair when JJ revels in her company and doesn’t know if she feels the same, maybe it’s not right, the way she pictures them together. But it exists; it’s happening and JJ’s in love.

Goddamnit, she’s in love.

And like that, the knowledge is drawn out of the darkness. How long had she been like that, she wonders? How long had she watched Emily, studying her moves in the day, and the way she talks when it’s night? How many nightmares, how many dreams had to happen before she stopped lying to herself? It’d been a hell of a lot longer than a week, this much she knows. 

And with this, it’s possible she will love Emily from afar. But right now, she feels lucky just to be the one with Emily here on this bench, under this moonlight, not talking. This moment is theirs, no matter what they make of it, and JJ is simply glad it exists.

When Emily looks at her, it’s new. It’s wildly collected, it’s calm but it’s like waves crashing against rocks, and after a while, even the toughest stone wears down.

“What changed?” JJ asks hoarsely. 

She knows exactly what’s different.

Time slows; she doesn’t know if it’s been months, or years. She doesn’t feel lateral, confined to her being. She is, in this moment, without boundaries, without limits. 

She is free.

And from great heights, she knows exactly how this will end, because she knows herself all too well. She recognizes the moon in Emily’s dark eyes, and she knows the way Emily’s hair falls around her face.

Emily reaches out and touches JJ’s face. Her skin is soft and her eyes are wide, staring, watching, waiting.

JJ’s head leans toward Emily’s fingers on her cheek, and her eyelids lull downward. And it’s then, when time is finally on her side, that she knows the Inside Emily.

She feels the heat burning under Emily’s skin, the vivacious fire she’d lit long ago but no one had seen. Time, it’d always slipped away. But now she discards the ‘glass half-full/ glass half-empty’ philosophy because it’s shit. The glass is real; the water is real. Some glasses are fuller than others. And all we are to do, then, is decide what to do with what we are given.

She’d thrown too many things away to forget this moment; the way Emily’s head ducks closer to hers. Her other hand lifts to cup JJ’s cheek and she draws her close and it’s then, that the last of her inhibition melts, and there’s no hesitation from either of them.

So when Emily’s mouth covers JJ, drawing her to the surface, pulling her to what she had been missing, there isn’t doubt, either.


	16. Don't Apologize

When Emily pulls away, JJ is numb, shocked. 

“You kissed me.”

Emily says nothing, instead, leaning in and kissing just above her lip, so she won’t say anything else. She hears JJ sigh and Emily kisses her again, a little lower.

JJ’s head tips up then, catching her lips in a chaste kiss, debating before moving her mouth over Emily’s, tilting her head and letting Emily.

Need drives her to a new place every second that she hadn’t been to with Emily before, or really, with anyone. She’d pushed everyone away; she’d always pushed everyone away. 

When do you decide when enough is enough?

JJ sighs and Emily presses against her, hard. She tastes like apple cider and her lips are cold. She finds herself gripping JJ’s face, holding her up confidently. 

She slips her tongue into JJ’s mouth. She doesn’t care who sees, not at all, as she exhales and explores every hot cavern of JJ’s mouth, feeling her tongue, feeling her teeth, and memorizing what it’s like, in case she can’t feel it again.

JJ’s hand rests on her hip, and Emily’s fingers are in her hair. JJ makes a sound in the back of her throat and Emily’s completely aware of everything that’s happening, every area JJ’s hands are on her. It’s heated, as the lowering of armor often is. She is not defined by what she’s doing, or who she was before. She is only who she is now, and shedding away her identity and it attributing it to this is oddly, one of the greatest comforts she has ever known.

It was so close, this thing was. It was always there. Their hands clasped together and “stay safe’s” and the lingering glances when they said goodbye. And she won’t leave, as erratic and dangerous as her life was. Because they have it tonight, because JJ’s always had her heart. Because the thought of leaving, of leaving her in abandon is more than she can take.

Her fingers curl around the side of JJ’s neck and pull her close. JJ’s desperate and Emily is too, but in a different way. She’ll wait because, though her need is just as prominent, it is not as sheer. 

JJ surrenders herself and Emily beats herself up for not doing this sooner. As complex as she’s made it, excusing her inactivity to fear, was wrong. JJ was always scared of things she didn’t know because she couldn’t free fall through life, not like Emily could. Her fear was the job, of safety, of the future and now Emily realizes, the fear is her. And it’s the same fear that sends her right into Emily’s arms, on a bench in an empty street, moonlight painting their clothes.

JJ’s hair tickles Emily’s neck and she brushes it away, kissing her for the countless time because she can’t accept that it’s happening.

Why does she always seek absolution?

Emily pulls away, to let JJ breathe. Her lipstick stains the corner of JJ’s mouth, and she’s panting and rubbing the back of her neck. “Emily”, she gasps.

Emily stands on her feet, rocking back and biting her lip. JJ’s face is flushed, her hair teased at the top from Emily’s hands, a button at the top of her coat loose. Emily’s made her like this and there’s no shame. 

“Let’s go home.”

+++

JJ unlocks the door, stumbling into the house. Emily follows right behind her and slips her arms around her back, pressing her body against JJ’s. Her breath is soft and her voice is low. It has been, ever since their time on the street.

Emily fingers undo the buttons on JJ’s coat one by one, taking her time, down her body. She slips her hands over JJ’s stomach, and kisses her neck from behind.

JJ feels Emily’s lips, scraping gently over her sensitive skin, and her knees buckle. Her head rolls back onto Emily’s shoulders and through bit lips she moans. She wants her, she needs her, and the visceral desperation is clawing its way up her spine.

Need.

Emily’s hands slide up her body, pushing the sleeves off her shoulders. Her fingers drag languidly up her arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. JJ shivers and Emily’s thumb rubs across the underside of JJ’s breast, through her clothes. She hesitates, something JJ didn’t think Emily would do.

Please, she wants to tell her.

She nods instead, her neck craned backward so that she’s looking up at the ceiling.

Emily’s hand takes the full weight of JJ’s breast daringly in her palm. JJ’s breath is sharp and she’s trying hard, so hard not to collapse on the floor.

Consequence.

It’s a word that means nothing to her, not when Emily’s got her like this. She can’t see the future, or the past, only what’s right in front of her. It’s freeing but in her tunnel vision she can only see what they’ve created, right here.

Emily’s started on JJ’s clothes again, another shirt for her to unbutton. It’s a thin white thing, with sleeves that run all the way to JJ’s hands. 

When Emily unbuttons the last of them, the shirt falls open, exposing her bare stomach and a plain black bra, something she feels slightly insecure about now.

The shirt falls from her arms and onto the floor. She turns around in Emily’s arms now, flicking her gaze up into her eyes.

“I wanna see you”, she mumbles.

Emily nods, kissing her briefly. The contact sends heat flooding to her cheeks; an effect Emily’s seemed to have on her lately. She’s wearing a white coat, similar to JJ’s and she takes it off herself, keeping her eyes on JJ the whole time.

JJ licks her lips, not remembering the conscious decision to do so. She takes a step back, away from Emily, and then another. She’s backing down the hallway, keeping Emily’s sultry gaze. She’s wearing jeans and a bra and the black panties she knows she chose. When Emily follows, she turns, to see where she’s going.

The room is dark and it seems unfamiliar now. She knows what will happen here; maybe that’s why the image of it seems different. The light of the moon spills gently onto the sheets, soaking into the mattress. Emily’s top drawer hangs open and JJ smiles because that’s not like Emily at all, to leave things out of place.

She hears the door close behind her, and she closes her eyes. She hears the sound of clothes being removed and dropping to the floor but she doesn’t turn around, not until the sound stops. 

When she does, look behind her that is, Emily’s got her back almost on the door. Her underwear and her bra are matching things; light pink with black lace on the edges. 

She takes a step closer: once. Twice. Emily’s expression does not change but her eyes do, looking as if they became darker. She wraps her fingers gently around JJ’s upper arms, eyeing her chest, her neck, her face.

The simple contact sends impulses rocketing up JJ’s body, and it’s the thing that makes her hold her breath.

In one motion, Emily spins her around, pinning her to the door.

It’s rough, it’s unexpected but God, JJ loves it.

She loves this.

Emily kisses her neck again. JJ feels Emily’s teeth scrape across where her pulse pounds against her skin and she moans this time, unable to keep it contained. She’s losing control and it’s sweet, not knowing who she is.

She was always the one who worked for the government, profiled criminals for the FBI, the one who people went to with their weaknesses because she was perceived to be strong. She’d been deceived, judged and used, as people often are. 

But here, now, she’s a woman. She’s a woman and Emily’s a woman and the way their chests collide and the craziness of it all, she feels real now.

Alive. This is what living ought to be.

Emily slides her hand down her stomach slowly, deliberately. She unbuttons JJ’s jeans and dips her fingertips below the waistband of them. 

“Jennifer.”

Jennifer.

Emily disrobes each syllable like fingers through buttons; slow, torturous; wonderful. Her eyes are low and her eyeliner is still there, contrasting brilliantly against her pale skin. Her dark eyes are almost black with desire and JJ shivers against her touch. 

This is the last moment in which they are simply friends, past when they can turn around and pretend this never happened. JJ knows, and Emily knows, which is why it only takes a second for Emily to drop her hand lower, lower, until her palm cups JJ intimately and she slips a finger in her.

JJ tears her lips away from Emily’s to cry out and Emily’s mouth is everywhere on her, her jaw, her ear, her cheek. Her thighs clench to keep her from falling and her hips circle, seeking Emily’s hand, searching for relief. 

She won’t last long, not if Emily keeps this up. She’s already embarrassingly slick and she’s moaning, bending her knees and moving against the door. Her head rolls around on her shoulders and Emily’s other hand stops it, cupping her cheek and kissing her again, this time, hard.

JJ’s legs are trembling and weak. “God, Emily”, she whispers against Emily’s lips.

JJ whimpers as Emily slides gently out of her, kissing her cheek once before lacing their fingers together and pulling JJ over, and to the mattress. JJ turns around and Emily fits herself between JJ’s legs, only waiting a moment before pushing her down onto the bed.

JJ’s body hits the mattress softly and she uses her feet to push herself back until her head taps the headboard.

She settles into the pillows, watching Emily crawl over and onto her, her gaze low and her eyes wild, searching over every inch of her skin. She slithers up her body and between her thighs.

Her hands curl over the waist of JJ’s jeans, pulling them down over her legs. JJ’s hips lift so she can do so. She’d managed to take JJ’s underwear off with them. The clothes fall down off the side of the bed seconds later and Emily’s on her again, her tongue pushing past JJ’s lips and into her mouth, hotly running over every surface. Emily lays her full weight on JJ’s stomach and there’s something incredibly satisfying about it, like she trusts her that she won’t break.

Emily moves her hips forward against the center of JJ’s legs. “Fuck”, JJ hisses. 

Emily tears her lips away, instead scraping down JJ’s jaw and to her neck, her chest. Emily kisses JJ’s breast through her bra and JJ feels her completely, everything she’s doing, feels the intensity of the moment.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined this before, what it would be like to be lying under Emily like she is now, completely dependent on her. It was just never possible, no matter how delicately JJ stacked the possibilities and things she’d do, nothing resulted in this. This is because, JJ believes, she’d defined them wrong. She hadn’t been courageous enough to admit there was more lurking beneath the surface because then they’d be giving up everything, and to JJ, everything was their working relationship. What sweet surrendering then, to be here now, with her.

She feels Emily’s mouth on the inside of her thigh and her back automatically arches, pulling Emily closer. She needs it. She just needs-

There.

That.

+++

She doesn’t go easy on JJ. Not at all.

Her arms wrap around underneath JJ’s thighs, holding her legs apart and steady. As confident as she wishes she is, or had been so far, she still felt the dread, that maybe she wasn’t doing this right but God, JJ’s making incredible sounds of encouragement.

She’s everywhere she can be, which is everywhere JJ had allowed her to be. Her tongue strokes the length of her and she’s kissing, sucking, tasting everything because, and maybe she’s selfish, but the thought of doing this, to JJ, her coworker, her friend, it was all new and incredibly hot.

Everything about Emily is unorthodox, maybe more than she cares to admit. That might be why, then, why the thought of breaking through everything they’d built, everything they’d convinced themselves they were is so liberating.

In the confines of the job she hadn’t been able to identify anything other than work, so then she couldn’t identify herself as anything other than work. She isn’t an agent now, and she didn’t fuck up the past and she won’t fuck up the future. She’s Emily, this is JJ and this is their moment, these are their pages written by the things they’ve done and it’s truly amazing, Emily would think, how through everything they still found each other.

Her hand slides up JJ’s body, hand closing over a satin-covered breast. JJ’s clutching the bed frame with one hand and the other, the sheets, tangled in her fingers. Her groans are breathy and low; a pitch Emily doesn’t recognize in her. Her hair is down and it cascades over her chest and she’s beautiful. She’s absolutely beautiful and damn it to hell if she doesn’t know that.

She knows JJ’s release before she can see it. Her eyes snap open, searching wildly around the room before she sees Emily looking up at her.

Emily doesn’t slow; she doesn’t stop. She stares into JJ’s eyes and witnesses her unravel, right in front of her.

She watches JJ’s eyes roll into the back of her head, and her neck strain upward, slick with sweat. She feels JJ’s hand land behind her skull and her fingers curl in Emily’s hair, holding her to her body. She sees JJ’s back arch up, toward Emily’s wandering mouth but the sound, God, the sound is incredible.

JJ cries out, and it’s hoarse, desperate. Her voice scrapes like gravel and only coming from her, could it be so sweet.

Emily’s hands grip the sides of JJ’s thighs, not moving until she could ride out the last of it. The muscles of her stomach tighten and then relax, and Emily only moves away when JJ’s head falls lazily onto the pillows.

She kisses the inside of JJ’s thigh once before crawling over her leg and up to her. 

She pulls the sheets over JJ’s trembling body and wraps her arms around JJ’s stomach, pulling her closer.

JJ’s panting and her breath is hot against Emily’s chest. Her mascara is smeared under her eyes but it still looks perfect, somehow. 

“How…how did you know?”

Emily brushes JJ’s hair out of her face. “I’m a profiler.”

“I’m sorry”, JJ manages between breaths. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I-“

“Don’t apologize”, Emily interrupts gently, kissing JJ’s forehead. “Just sleep.”


	17. Humanity As An Adjective

JJ awakes many times in the hours before dawn.

The last time, she’d decided she wasn’t going back to bed. She took a shower, made coffee and now it’s 5 AM, and Emily’s still asleep.

Emily.

Maybe that’s why she couldn’t sleep. Each time she’d woken up she’d been tucked into Emily; they fit like puzzle pieces and her hand had been stretched over JJ’s stomach. Her breath was steady; peacefully steady with the rhythm of sleep and it had been a mystery how she’d drifted out of consciousness after what they’d done.

She had sex. With Emily.

Emily.

JJ can’t stop repeating her name in her mind, like maybe if she says it enough times this’ll be real.

It is real, she reminds herself.

And she doesn’t regret it, not a single thing. Every time she closes her eyes she replays what had happened, how she’d shattered around her, how Emily had held her in the aftermath. It was her mistake; letting this brew too long, letting Emily touch her and not saying a single thing about it, because now she worries they‘ve moved too fast and Emily will be scared out of what they’ve created.

She’d missed an entire ocean chasing raindrops.

And this is a rising sun, and their ocean is as wide as ever. Maybe it’d taken a while to find, and maybe she’d dug around it, but it’s here now, and that’s all that matters.

What will become of them when they go back?

JJ doesn’t know. Fuck, she doesn’t know. She never thought of the possibility that she’d be a different person on the flight back home. The team will know; will they still be able to work together? Why do simple things cause such complex consequences?

And then, she hears the subject of her thoughts take a seat next to her.

“You were never quiet in the mornings.”

JJ lifts her eyes to meet Emily’s face. She’s essentially the same person, her dark hair falling down her pale face, her brown eyes smiling while her mouth doesn’t.

“What happens now?”

Emily pauses, looking at the space on the counter in front of them. “Is this something you wanna shoot for?”

Of course.

JJ bites her lip and nods.

“Then we’re still JJ and Emily. And sometimes I take you out to dinner, and sometimes we go on runs together, and get coffee. It’s gonna be fine.”

JJ says nothing.

“Why are you so scared of this?”

JJ’s heart freezes, and her fingertips turn white from clutching the edge of the counter. She doesn’t push her hair behind her ears when it falls in her face, anything to hide the invasive gaze of Emily.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

JJ looks up.

Emily’s face is soft, concerned. Her eyes wrinkle at the ends and the remnants of last night’s mascara line her eyelashes, and she’s got some under her eyes. JJ loves her like that, humble and raw. Though in her presence, in the way she is now, JJ is too awed and intimidated to say anything thoughtful.

“I fuck things up Emily, a lot.”

Emily bites the inside of her cheek.

“I don’t make time for people, and sometimes I’d rather take than give. But you’re not anybody; you’re not everyone else. I can’t do that to you.”

Emily’s fingers close over JJ’s hands, laying flat against the counter.

“I know you. And that, what you just described, that’s not you. This is you, underestimating yourself, and overestimating the bad things you can do. We all suck; we’re all people, Jayje. And if, for some reason, this doesn’t work out, I won’t be wrecked. The fallout, or the possibility of it, is something I can handle. It’s something you can handle. And if I’m wrong, well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

If I’m wrong.

Even in this, JJ admires her surety. 

“You seem inevitable.”

Emily runs her thumbs over JJ’s wrists. “Only you could perceive absolution in a person.”

“This is gonna get serious, Emily.”

Emily leans in.

“I know.”

“What if it’s more than coffee and dates?”

Emily leans closer.

“And if not?”

“If so?”

Emily’s face hovers inches from hers. Her eyebrow arches slightly, and her teeth scrape her bottom lip. “We’re equipped to handle ourselves.”

JJ slides her hands out from under Emily’s, and flattens her fingers over the sides of Emily’s face. She feels Emily’s arms snake around her, wrapping around her waist. 

It’s her who seals the air between them. She knows what Emily says is not fallacy but through doubt, even the strongest people can perceive absolute truth as lies. So whatever Emily’s saying, whether she’s right or wrong, JJ doesn’t care. She sinks into their world, their fantasy, their reality with comfort and ease, and she’ll reside within the sound walls of them for as long as time or will should let her. She’s not enslaved, not captured or cast into Emily’s arms, but she surrenders herself quietly, of her own volition.

Emily kisses her softly; every contact like voices over her skin. It’s a silent fire, because passion isn’t always loud and doesn’t always make itself known. 

Her skin becomes flushed when Emily runs her fingertips slowly up JJ’s arms, and JJ shivers into her touch. But through every second of their lips together, of their hands wandering slowly, exploring though they’ve been through this before, JJ becomes enlightened. She feels a crawling need then, to show Emily she could have the same effect on her.

Her hand trails down Emily’s cheek, down her neck, and her fingers slide over the dip in her collarbone. Her palm drags down the material of Emily’s shirt and gently closes over Emily’s breast.

She hears a low sound, from the back of Emily’s throat. It’s sweet, like the commencing of something better. Emily grips her waist, holding them together firmly. Her tongue slips its way into JJ’s mouth but JJ refuses to succumb, to let Emily take over. 

She reaches down and grabs Emily’s upper arms, helping her stand. She kisses her. Once. Twice. Emily’s back hits the wall and JJ’s on her, still. She’s slipping down and down farther, until she’s cupping Emily through her clothes.

It’s a simple gesture, and it makes Emily buckle her knees. JJ’s fingers splay over Emily’s stomach, rubbing circles with her thumbs. Emily’s skin is smooth and her muscles are tight, and she’s already groaning softly. 

JJ pushes down, not wasting anymore time, not allowing the seconds to stretch them thin. She moves her hand into the front of Emily’s underwear, brushing her fingers over the surface of her. Emily sighs and arches her back off the wall, pushing JJ’s hand against her.

The remembrance of men in JJ’s position dance through her head, and she replays them now. The feeling of Emily’s hands, Emily’s mouth on her had been lesson enough but she’s second-guessing herself now, as she often does, and old habits die hard.

She scarcely remembers how she ended up in Emily, with Emily’s head buried in the crook of her neck. Emily’s hair smells like soap and it brushes across JJ’s lips. JJ’s knee is pressed on the inside of Emily’s leg, holding her to the wall. She feels Emily’s hand in her hair, her fingernails pressing against her skin. JJ rocks her hand against Emily, rhythmically swaying her body. Back. Forth. Emily’s moans are quiet inspirations in JJ’s ears, the drive that keeps her going. 

When Emily’s legs shake, and she can scarcely stand, JJ holds her up. When she closes her eyes and moves to the rhythm of them, JJ moves along. And when she comes undone, her breathing hard in JJ’s ear, her fingertips pressed into JJ’s scalp, JJ can only behold.

Emily is less frantic, breathing into it rather than thrusting herself into the freefall JJ had done. But her chest heaves, and JJ feels Emily’s teeth scrape against the skin of her shoulder. Her cries are but sharp breaths and JJ can’t see much, but she can feel the way Emily’s body trembles against her own.

When Emily finally slumps over, her head rested on JJ’s shoulder, JJ guides them down. 

They’re laying on the carpet now, the light of dawn slowly creeping up the floors. JJ holds Emily’s head to her chest, and Emily’s breathing is slowing into the same tune of people who find sleep late. Her shirt is stretched a little above her shoulder, and she drifts away.

“Do you love me Jayje?”

Her voice is so faint JJ almost doesn’t hear it. It’s more of a statement than a question, really, and it’s too tired to be demanding. It has every bit of an impact, splintering JJ’s rationalizations and she knows it’s pointless to try to run from it.

“Of course I do.” Because she does.

Sometimes, crooked showings of humanity are all the world needs.


	18. Surrender

Emily stretches out in the wood chair, untangling her hair from a loose nail on the top of it. The fall sun is just as bright, if not more than it is during summer, but cooler on Emily’s arms. Condensation drips from the glass of sweet tea in the cup-holder onto her fingertips, and she flicks them at the concrete below.

“Don’t you wish we had porches like these, back at home?”

Emily nods. “The balconies aren’t the same.”

“There aren’t enough flowers, either.”

Emily had tucked a daisy behind JJ’s ear a while ago and it softens her already mild features. She looks fantastic in the sun, her tan legs crossed and long, wearing jean shorts and a Starsky and Hutch t-shirt with red on the collar. Emily can see the line of her jaw when the sun shines on that side of her face, her skin shimmering. Her body is incredible and she is incredible but this, this is incredible. Emily never imagined air could be so thick and fresh.

“We’ve gotta get going soon.”

Tom Jameson had called them about half an hour ago, telling them to come into the shop at three. The furniture from the spare bedroom was to go to him, but she’d neglected to sort her personal items, Tom had said. It’s 2:45 now and even though the drive into town only takes a few minutes, Emily has a thing about being late.

JJ sets her glass down to tie her hair up and slip her sandals back on. Her old shirt hugs her body, reminding Emily again how little she really is. 

JJ smiles at Emily before getting into the Focus. “I’m driving.”

“Lord help us all”, Emily jokes, swinging her purse over her shoulder and sliding into the passenger seat.

“Hey, I’m not nearly as bad as you. When you brake, I worry the airbags are gonna deploy.”

“You exaggerate.”

JJ grins devilishly as she switches the car on. “Maybe.”

Someone had come and laid gravel on the road in the middle of the night because there were so many potholes, Emily assumes the city was getting sick of them. Maybe when the tar comes through it’ll be smoother but as of now, dust hampering her visibility, she’s irritated, even from the passenger seat. She sees cows at the top of the hill from the dip of the road she’s in and an old woman sitting on the steps of her porch, talking on a cordless phone. It’s not too humid today, Emily’s relieved to find out, and it’s about seventy degrees outside. 

In town, some of the men work construction. She sees a couple repainting the legs of the water tower, and a few volunteer firemen washing the truck. The parking lot of the gas station is under construction and despite the fact that Main Street is, well, Main Street, it’s nearly empty. 

An electronic sign advertising the bank says that it’s about ten to three and sixty-eight degrees, and that the Bank of Marian Valley wishes everyone a safe and happy autumn. Friendly service, the sign also says, above the other sign showing the hours to be only nine to two, but a 24-hour ATM.

The furniture store is right down the block from where they print the newspaper. The only vehicle there is Tom’s truck, with the logo ‘Tom’s TV and Furnishings’ printed along the side, covered in dust and scratches. 

Wind-chimes jingle when the door is open, and Tom isn’t behind the counter. The open sign isn’t on either, something Emily finds odd.

“Tom?” JJ calls, searching the aisles for him.

“Back here!” Tom shouts, distantly. “Just doing these boxes.”

“You want us to help?”

“If you could”, Tom says. “My back isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Emily follows JJ past a couple front-to-back desks and opened packages. A ceiling light hangs unevenly from above them, and there are quite a few filing cabinets opened.

“Where are you?” Emily calls.

“In the back hallway”, Tom answers.

The walls are narrow, and wires hang down them. There are at least twenty old televisions back here, some with the dials gone and some with the backs gone. A dusty clock reads that it’s seven in the morning from the wall perpendicular to them.

When they round the corner, they see Tom, propping himself so that one shoulder’s higher than the other, his old hand resting on his knee. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and a moving box sits on the floor.

“It’s full of picture frames. It’s heavy and I’m trying to get it to the top shelf, but I can’t seem to do it”, he explains.

“Don’t worry about it”, JJ says reassuringly. She stands on her tiptoes to clear a space on the top shelf, catching an outlet cover before it falls.

“And behind you there”, Tom motions, “There’s a few pictures and photo albums and things I’m sure she doesn’t want sold.”

Emily turns and kneels down to the box just as JJ squats to lift the box as dead weight off the floor. She picks up a picture of Jean at her wedding day. She stands with her husband in the middle of bridesmaids and groomsmen. She traces over the creases in the photo, only stopping when she sees in the front of the men, closest to the groom. “Hey, you were the best-“

“Put your hands up.”

“What?” Emily asks, turning slowly as she leans off the backs of her feet.

Blood stops running when she sees the silver glint of a hunting knife under JJ’s quivering chin.

She subtly upturns her palms out in front of her body, indicating she can be trusted. 

“Why you, Tom?”

Tom’s eyes are narrowed, the blackness of them contrasted against his heated skin. “They weren’t doing right.”

“Right by who?”

“By God!” he snarls almost instantly. “They turned away.”

Tears form but don’t show, and she speaks over the lump in her throat. Her blood, the blood in her face has long since rushed away, tumbling through her veins and she keeps her arms rigid, so that she doesn’t shake. She just wants to run but so long as she’s confined; they’re confined, and the noise of sin will follow.

But JJ didn’t turn away; she wants to scream.

“What about James Brewster, and his wife? What did they do?”

He chuckles huskily. “Never liked him.”

“Because he was black?”

Tom steps forward, pressing harder on JJ’s neck. Her face is still, her blue eyes wide and filled with tears, the rims of them red. Her hands clutch his arm and stay, from the first time she tried to pull him away. He’s experienced in this because Emily knows JJ would’ve found a way out by now, if she could’ve.

“My daddy and I had a little black boy help us around the farm when I was young; a neighbor kid from Thompson’s. Never liked him, neither of us did, and Dad’d always tell me, he’d always remind me that there’s one kind of person God favors, and it wasn’t him.

One day, when Dad ran into Hanna County to help his buddy fix his roof, the boy and I was alone, painting the fences. I was eighteen at the time and he was about twelve. Wasn’t workin’ too hard, never sweat or nothin’, but it was cool that day. The boy was on his knees, paintbrush bigger than his face and he’d look over at me every now and again; I was smokin’. And the wind was blowin’ the smoke in his face, and he was tryin’ to joke with me. ‘Best get back to work then’, he said, ‘it’s what we’re gettin’ paid to do.’ 

‘Only one of us was intended to be workin’, I said. He looked at me, had such a dumb look on his face and he said, ‘now I don’t think that’s right.’

And so I got up, kicked a rock away and put my cigarette out on his arm.

He hardly screamed or nothin’, only cried for a minute and stayed put because he didn’t have anywhere to run. I didn’t say anything else, neither did he, and he finished the fence by himself.

The next day the kid’s dad came to the front porch, knockin’ up a storm. He was angry, sayin’ stuff like his kid’s arm was infected or somethin’, and my daddy let him inside, actin’ real sorry. 

He sent me off to get him a cup of coffee, and I couldn’t watch from the stairs no more. And I got it right from the pot, started to pour it and I heard a shot.

I’d never heard a gun fired indoors before. It was louder, limited. You always hear the shootin’, never when the bullet lands. I heard three sounds: one, the firin’. Two, when it hit his head and three, the sound of him hit the floor.

I ran into the livin’ room and there my daddy was, gun still smokin’ in his hand. I gave him his coffee, he drank the whole thing, ‘spite the fact that it was hot enough to burn the palm of my hand. 

It was the fifties and they didn’t have the smarts we do now, I drove my daddy out to bury the man, and that was the end of it.”

“Tom”, Emily says gently, stepping forward. “Jennifer’s not like that man. Jennifer is good.”

“Like you’d be the judge of that.”

JJ stifles a whimper, shifting and leaning forward. 

“But why her, why the other two girls?”

Strands of gray hair stick to the side of Tom’s wrinkled face. The veins in his fingers are tight enough to pop out of his skin. His voice is angry but steady, never faltering, no weakness.

“Joined the church a year after I finished college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life and I was still young, still wantin’ to be a righteous man. I went to a new congregation someplace out in Oklahoma where I worked on the railways.

They weren’t like the old place, talkin’ about how God loves everybody and joy is the key to everything and all that shit, they told the truth. The truth about sin; that if you sin and you’re not sorry for it, you go to Hell and you burn there, there’s no savin’ you.

They talked about gamblers and cheaters and gays, how they know they’re sinnin’ and they don’t care; just keep doin’ it anyway. 

I’d go to church in the mornin’ and work at night, and every time my hammer went down I imagined their faces underneath it, me settin’ ‘em straight. And I felt the need then, to do just that someday. So here I am, fifty-some years later.”

The last bit of his word is drowned out by Emily’s cell phone, ringing shrilly and vibrating in her pocket.

“Turn the damn thing off!” 

“I’m trying, I’m trying”, she says quickly, fumbling to check the phone. 

“Now!”

“Tom, I need you to know something”, she says, every ounce of her working toward being level. 

“I’m with the FBI.”

“Nice fuckin’ try.”

“No, I, I’m going to reach into my pocket now, and get out my badge.”

He watches each move carefully, eyes following her hands. She feels the leather in the waistband of her jeans and pulls it out, flipping it open and showing him her ID. 

“And that was my colleague. I’ve been ordered to answer every phone call and if I miss it, to call back within five minutes. If not, my supervisor traces my phone and they’ll be here almost instantly. I have to call them back, to keep them away.”

Tom flicks his eyes down and rocks his feet. “You got thirty seconds to tell him you’re helpin’ me.”

“Okay”, Emily says calmly, drawing out the phone and flipping it open. She dials Reid’s number by heart and it rings, four times before he answers.

“Hello?”

Emily rushes her speech. “À l'aide. Je suis au magasin de meubles. Exécuter une trace sur ce téléphone. Maintenant.”

“Speak fucking English”, Tom hisses, angling the blade against JJ’s throat. JJ coughs and he rams his knee into the back of her thigh.

“Hey Spencer. Everything’s okay, I’m just helping a friend in town. Take care.” She speaks slowly, as if she’s trying to get a non English-speaking person to understand what she’s saying.

“Emily, are you okay?”

“Maintenant, Spencer. Yes.”

Tom furrows his eyebrows and clenches his teeth, and Emily hangs up the phone.

“He’s our expert from Quebec. He doesn’t speak English.”

JJ looks at Emily, her eyes wide and scared. 

Terrified.

JJ knows. 

You lied.

Emily tips her head up as if to say ‘I know I did’. 

JJ looks hollow, distant. His hands are tight around her, and it’s then that Emily’s flooded with anguish. JJ’s skin and bones, and he won’t feel bad if she breaks.

“Did you know James?”

“In a sense.”

“Tell me.”

Tom looks at the opposite wall, distant. “I was at his daddy’s funeral. It was funny, how the cigarette scar never went away, even at the age he was when he died.”

“Your dad killed his grandpa.”

“Stress killed his dad.”

“And you killed him.”

Tom’s eyelids droop a little, and he loosens his hold on JJ, who by now has grown silent. “You’re FBI, right?”

“Yes”, Emily says. “I’m Agent Emily Prentiss and she is Agent Jennifer Jareau.”

“You know what that means?”

Emily shakes her head. “What does it mean?”

Tom upturns the corner of his lip. His teeth are browned at the bottom, probably from tobacco. “You have a gun, don’t you?”

Fuck, what does she say? What does she say? She’s short circuiting, she’s-

“You have a gun.”

“I swear, I-“

“Give me the gun.”

“I don’t-“

“Give me the fucking gun!”

“Tom-“

It’s the sickening crack of a gun that finally silences them.


	19. Aftermath

Emily’s arms envelop her, and JJ heaves desperately into her chest. “The blood’s not mine, the blood’s not mine.”

She crawls off Tom’s body and Emily’s hands cup her face, her fingers run through her hair. 

“Who shot him?” JJ shakily manages, between breaths.

Emily cranes her neck upward and people swarm in, some her team, some not. “I think it was Morgan, Jayje. You’re okay.”

Hotch walks in, and upon seeing the two on the ground, he helps JJ to her feet. “We’ve gotta get you checked out.”

“I’m okay.”

“Procedure, JJ.” He swallows. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“How did you know where to find us?” JJ asks, searching his face for an answer.

“Emily”, Spencer says, coming over to them, a strap loose on his bulletproof vest. “She told me to get a trace on the phone.”

“The French you spoke…” JJ trails off.

“I told him we needed help.”

JJ’s eyes wander between all of them, and then settle on Emily. Emily’s shoulders are slumped, her hair and clothes disheveled. She’s still breathing hard and her face looks thin in the dark like this.

JJ steps forward, away from Hotch, away from Spencer, and hugs Emily, burying her head in the crook of Emily’s neck. She smells like perfume, like sugar, like sun, and JJ revels in it. She holds Emily tight, until she can’t possibly wrap her arms around her body any tighter. Emily sighs gently, relaxing into their embrace.

“Thank you”, JJ whispers into Emily’s ear, resting the side of her head against Emily’s. “You saved us both.”


	20. Such Great Heights

It’s always funny, how we wonder what the sky looks like, above the clouds.

It’s the same really, as when you look up. As above, so below. No contradiction, catch, mirror image. There’s no opposites, no coincidence, only what was, what is, and what will be.

Darkness is just a place where the sun can’t reach; where they lost touch. What resides there is completely on us. If there is anything to be feared, we are at fault.

The plane is dark, and the only light comes from the moon, obscured by the clouds. And the stars, of course, but sometimes the light of them is so dim we forget to marvel in their presence.

The moonlight reflects on JJ’s face. It’s painted on and Emily can see every indentation and mark on her skin. She’s not sleeping, neither of them are. JJ’s only pretending because things are new, and she’s thinking, shaping what will become of them, hoping she’ll make a difference in the end.

She won’t. She can only exist, or exist with Emily. And she’ll stay, because she’s got a heart of gold and Emily knows.

She knows.

A strand of light hair falls from behind JJ’s ears, and Emily puts it back, letting her fingertips linger on JJ’s cheek. JJ isn’t careful enough though, because she swallows and Emily smiles.

She’s perfect; everything about her is perfect, the way the shadows of her collarbones cast across her chest, how she forgot to button the top of her shirt, how she doesn’t realize she’s rubbing her thumb and her finger together at her side. Emily thinks of her singing, of her dancing, of her drinking coffee with her hair tied up in the kitchen on a Tuesday morning, at eleven o’clock because she slept in and she still hadn’t changed. 

She thinks of Starsky and Hutch and JJ’s homemade CD’s and Hocus Pocus and she smiles, because each memory comes home with them. They’ve left nothing out there now.

She leans in and closes her eyes, inhaling JJ’s scent through her nose. It’s calming, and Emily watches the rise and fall of her chest; hears her breathe.

JJ’s breathing hitches when Emily brushes her lips over her cheek, and covers JJ’s hand with her own. 

In the deepest, darkest recesses of people, faults lie. Sometimes they are never found, sometimes they are found far too often. They are only illuminated by people, and not things, because only people can reflect the taboo ‘goodness’ of the earth. Which means then, that they are fully capable of reflecting the bad.

In the light of the stars, in all their fires, Emily finds no fault. She sees JJ’s soul now, the calm and gentle winds of her, and there’s no evil. There’s only the soft swaying of a heart that will always remain, and a mind that has, and always will, enlighten the path and the people around her.

And Emily’s been needing light for a long time.

 

“That is a step  
On which I must fall down, or else overleap,  
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;  
Let not light see my black and deep desires.  
The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be  
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.”

-William Shakespeare


	21. Author's Note

This story, like many before it, is one I’ve wanted to tell for a long time.

I had the idea for it when I was driving through my own small town. I’d had the idea of writing an undercover story JJ and Emily for a while now but I always thought: where? Why? And then I thought, well, why not put JJ and Emily in a little town, in a setting I’d be familiar with?

I looked forward to writing chapters fifteen and sixteen since the very beginning: JJ and Emily’s scenes together. I came close to putting them sooner in the story, as there were many instances they could’ve happened. But it didn’t feel right, so I let the story unravel where it did, which brings me to this.

I couldn’t bring myself to write the words “the end”. I just couldn’t do it. I felt like their story ended far too soon, the ending of this was just the beginning of them! So I decided then, that I will be writing a Part Two and a Part Three, which should be coming out before the end of October. 

Enclosed is a list of songs I listened to on repeat, and to each chapter I wrote while listening to them. 

I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Feel free to leave reviews and things; I’d love to know what you guys think. Thank you all, and I’ll see you again soon.

>>>

Chapter One: Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers

Chapter Two: Night Time by The xx

Chapter Three- Part One: Ho Hey by The Lumineers

Chapter Three- Part Two: Down in the Valley by The Head and The Heart

Chapter Three- Part Three: Winter Song by The Head and The Heart

Chapter Four: It Ain’t Easy by Woods

Chapter Five: Lost in My Mind by The Head and The Heart

Chapter Six: Windows by Chris & Thomas

Chapter Seven- Part One: Cats and Dogs by The Head and The Heart

Chapter Seven- Part Two: 40 Day Dream by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes

Chapter Eight: Beautiful World by Chris & Thomas

Chapter Nine: Sounds Like Hallelujah by The Head and The Heart

Chapter Nine Club Song: Ghost Town by Adam Lambert 

Chapter Ten: Such Great Heights by Iron & Wine

Chapter Eleven: Elouise by The Lumineers

Chapter Twelve: Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons

Chapter Thirteen: Could’ve Been Me by The Struts

Chapter Fourteen: From Afar by Vance Joy

Chapter Fifteen: Amsterdam by Coldplay

Chapter Sixteen- Part One: Snake Eyes /Live/ by Mumford & Sons

Chapter Sixteen- Parts Two and Three: Surrender by Civil Twilight

Chapter Seventeen: Youth by Daughter

Chapter Eighteen- Part One: Hold On To What You Believe by Mumford & Sons

Chapter Eighteen- Part Two: Save Yourself by Civil Twilight

Chapter Nineteen: Jezebel by Iron & Wine

Chapter Twenty: Cold Arms by Mumford & Sons


End file.
